Held Hostage
by SwanQueenUK
Summary: COMPLETE! SwanQueen AU. The life of 18-year-old Regina Mills, daughter of a billionaire, was relatively free of drama or troubles. Unlike the first 17 years of Emma Swan's life which had been a downward spiral until she became desperate enough to risk her freedom for a better future. When the worlds of these young women collide, an unlikely connection is formed. Rated M for Ch 40.
1. The Plans

A/N: I'm back! So this idea came to me mid-way through Kitchen Kisses and I think it may possibly be original! At least, I've not seen a story with these elements in the SwanQueen fandom yet. Really keen to hear what you guys think …

* * *

The bell echoed down the corridor, signalling the end of class. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Regina gathered up her books and pen and slipped them inside the soft leather satchel before strolling out of the room with the rest of her peers. Everyone was already talking loudly about their weekend plans, relieved another week of school was over and that they, as seniors, were that little bit closer to graduating. Regina felt the same. She couldn't wait to be done with high school and get to college. As soon as she reached the corridor, her best friend, who had been in a different class, fell into step beside her.

"Still up for Moonlight later?" Zelena asked, looping her arm through Regina's as they walked towards the parking lot. "I bought a banging new dress which is going to make sure neither of us pay for a drink all night. Plus, I was thinking we could grab dinner at Parc beforehand."

"Parc again? We went there last Friday," Regina said, wrinkling her nose. The high end restaurant was one of the most exclusive in New York but the brunette's surname guaranteed her entrance whenever she and her friends desired a meal.

"Fine, what about Glint?"

Regina nodded her agreement to that suggestion, her cropped dark hair bouncing a little with the movement. "Yeah but I've got some errands to run first. Meet you there at seven?"

"What errands?" Zelena asked, her British accent warm yet pretentious. Despite being in the United States for most of her life, Zelena had failed to pick up the New York twang and instead spoke exactly as her British father did. "Can I tag along?"

"Are you still avoiding going home?"

The redhead scowled. "Ma is doing my nut. You know she checked to see if I'd done my homework last week? I'm eighteen; I don't need my ma checking my school work."

"Had you done it?" Regina asked, pushing open the door which led to the parking lot and stepping out into the warm air. The delicate silk top she was wearing fluttered in the gentle New York breeze.

"No, but that's not the point," Zelena replied. "I'm an adult. Why can't she see that?"

Regina shrugged. "Daddy's the same with me. We'll always be their little girls. You know he won't buy me a new car? He says this one is fine." The final statement was punctuated by Regina kicking the tyre of the sleek black Mercedes they were now stood besides.

"It is fine," Zelena pointed out.

"I've had it for over two years. It was my sixteenth birthday present. I think it's time for an upgrade, don't you?"

Zelena raised her eyebrow and then looked over the low roof of the sporty car to gaze at her own Porsche which was parked beside Regina's. "Dude, mine is four years old. Plus, I hit that dumb fire hydrant last month and the dent is still visible. I think I need an upgrade more than you."

"Well, if you do your homework, maybe your ma will buy you a new car," Regina teased.

Zelena huffed. "So are you getting a new car, Little Miss Swot?"

It was well known throughout Storybrooke Prep that Regina Mills, in addition to being from one of the wealthiest families in New York City, was also a very bright student. Everything came easily to Regina and she had coasted through school, popular amongst her classmates and teachers alike. She had easily secured her place at Yale University; not because of her family name but because she genuinely deserved to attend the prestigious school. Zelena West, on the other hand, was less academically minded and spent most of her free time drawing and painting. The trouble was, being a talented artist wasn't what her parents required for their daughter who was set to inherit a multi-million-dollar insurance company. Regina, herself expected to take over the Mills multi-billion-dollar technology empire, was every business owner's dream daughter.

"Daddy says I have to use my own money to buy a new car if I want one," Regina said, pouting slightly. "Apparently, because this one is still running fine, if I want an upgrade I have to invest myself."

While Henry Mills could afford to buy his only daughter a thousand new cars, he was beginning to teach his entitled daughter the value of money. So when the eighteen-year-old had come to him earlier in the week and asked for a new car, he had provided her with two options; wait until the car genuinely needed replacing, or buy it using her own money.

"So is that what your errand is?" Zelena asked. "Car shopping?"

"I've got to go to the bank first," Regina said. "I have an appointment at four. The money's tied up in a trust Gramps set up for me before he died. There are conditions or something. I have to meet with the bank manager to explain why I want to access it. It might take a week or so to release the funds."

"That sounds terribly dull," Zelena drawled. "Can I come?"

Regina laughed. "Sure. Do you want to come in this old tin can or follow in your car?"

"I'll take my own hunk of junk home first, grab my outfit for tonight and then get Ma's driver to drop me off. You can drive us to the restaurant and club, right?" Regina nodded. "Which bank are you going to?"

"New York Gold Capital," Regina said.

"Just off 6th Avenue?"

Regina nodded. "55th Street."

"Awesome, see you there then," Zelena said, leaning in to kiss Regina on the cheek. "Later, babe."

Regina opened the door to her car as Zelena made her way around to her own ride. Seconds later, both high end sports cars roared to life. Pulling out of their spaces, first Regina then Zelena drove out of Storybrooke Prep School and merged into the busy traffic of Central Park West.

* * *

Dirty fingers picked at a loose thread of the inseam on the tight black jeans, rubbing the coarse string between her grimy pads. With her eyes focused on her hands, she realised how filthy her fingernails were. Scanning the floor where she sat, she picked up a slender twig and began to scrape the dirt from beneath her nails. She was only half listening to what her friend was saying. She knew the plan. The meeting was for everyone else's benefit.

"Any questions?" Neal asked when he had finished explaining.

Three heads shook no. It was simple enough. Genius, really, in its simplicity. A tiny voice wondered whether it was too simple; whether they had missed something. But whenever she had raised this concern, Neal assured her that it was fool-proof.

"Emma, you know what you're doing, right?"

The blonde looked up from her task, the fingernails on her right hand now somewhat cleaner. "What?"

"Were you even listening?" Neal asked, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Relax, I know the plan," Emma insisted. "Anyway, my part is the simplest."

"Yeah but it's also the most important. Don't fuck it up else we're all screwed."

"Whatever," Emma said, dropping her gaze to her left hand and continuing her task.

Neal hesitated but didn't push. He knew Emma had his back; that she wouldn't let them down. The other three, however, he was less sure about. While Neal and Emma had been living together for almost a year, Lily, Felix and Peter were new to the group. He had found Felix and Peter himself four months earlier, rescued them from the street where they had been selling themselves to scrape a living. Emma had run into Lily just a month before and recruited her to be the vital fifth member of their crew.

Homeless for seven years, Neal saw himself as something of a father figure for teens who had found themselves without a place to live. He had taken countless young people under his wing over the years but he and Emma had formed a close bond. There had been something different about the blonde sixteen-year-old which drew Neal to her that sunny afternoon almost one year ago. She had been sat at the top of a bridge in Central Park, panhandling and reading a copy of the New York Times simultaneously. When Neal had asked her a question about the President's latest nomination to the Supreme Court, the blonde had replied with such a succinct and accurate statement that Neal had stopped in his tracks. The two of them had spent the rest of the summer together and when winter came, their friendship developed further.

It was for warmth, he had assured her late one night when he invited Emma to share his sleeping bag. Only just seventeen at the time, Emma had been hesitant at first but the cold bite of the New York winter forced her to push aside her reservations and crawl into the snug, stuffy material. Neal had just held her for the first few nights but before long he pushed for more. After a half-hearted protest, Emma relented. She liked Neal well enough and he cared for her. The fact that she wasn't attracted to men seemed irrelevant when the man who rutted above her was also the man who had saved her life that first, harsh winter on the streets.

When spring and then summer came, their 'relationship' continued as they began to formulate their plan. They were a team; the two of them. And now, with their three other friends, the plan was ready to be put into action. Neal and Emma had recruited from the streets, taking the time to find homeless youths who could be trusted, who would do what was needed, who wanted to escape the life badly enough to take a risk. A risk which, if they succeeded, would pay off for all involved.

Emma trusted Neal with her life. He had saved her. He had been the family she had never had. Sixteen years in the foster system and a tramp was the first person to show her genuine kindness and affection. Emma was powerless to resist. And Neal was a good person, for the most part. He was a lot better than many homeless who wandered the park at night. He was a saint compared to the man Lily had fallen in with. Her new friend never disclosed the extent of what had happened to her to Emma but she could see the haunting pain behind her light brown eyes. If Neal wanted to have sex with Emma in exchange for protecting her, then she was willing to comply. At least he wasn't violent nor pimped her out.

A wad of black material hit Emma in the face and landed in her lap, jolting her from her reverie. She looked up and scowled at Neal who winked at her.

"Ok, is everyone clear on their role?" Neal asked for the umpteenth time.

Everyone nodded, including Emma.

"And you've all got your weapons?"

Four nods.

"Loaded?"

More nods.

"Ok, let's go then," he said, pushing himself to his feet.

The rest of his crew followed suit, brushing away the twigs and leaves which clung to their clothes as they did so. Emma slid final piece of her outfit into her pocket. They had several blocks to walk before thy needed to put them on. It wouldn't do any good to draw attention to themselves. The five of them stepped out from beneath the shadow of the tree and headed towards the edge of the park. When they reached Central Park South, Felix nodded once, his lanky blonde hair flopping across his eyes, and strolled purposefully in the opposite direction to the rest of the group to complete his task. The remaining four continued down 5th Avenue.

They walked in silence. Neal led, his stride confident. Emma was next, her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of the black overcoat she was wearing, fingers playing with the knitted material in her left pocket and cold hard metal in her right. Beads of sweat began to slide down her back. She wasn't sure if it was the inappropriate clothes for the season or the knowledge of what they were about to do.

A few steps behind Emma was Lily, her mouth set in a firm line. While she knew the dangers associated with what they were about to do, she didn't care. She didn't care about anything any more. Even Emma, the first person to show her kindness in two years, hadn't managed to crack through the walls she had built around her heart.

Peter brought up the rear, his dark eyes darting around the street. What he was looking for, no one knew. Ending up on the street at fifteen, Peter's youth had disappeared into the darkness which came with street walking. Three years later, his lanky frame was withered from persistent drug use and abusive clients. Neal had saved him, taken him away from that life but he would never be free of the memories.

Several blocks away, Felix was fiddling with the lock of a car door, wiggling it in just the right way until the mechanism clicked open.

* * *

Regina parked directly outside the building and shut off the car engine. Road paint marked the area as a loading bay but it didn't matter. Regina Mills didn't pay parking tickets and everyone in the city knew not to tow her car. Her father's friendship with the Police Commissioner was a powerful thing. She slid out of the low vehicle and stalked into the bank. It was close to the end of the day on Friday afternoon but there were a number of customers inside. Regina walked straight past the wall of tellers and up to the reception area at the back of the main room.

"Miss Mills," the small blonde said, standing up as soon as she saw her. "You're a little early. Mr Gold is still in with his previous appointment."

"No problem. I can wait," Regina said, pulling out her cell and checking her texts. Two waited for her; one from her mother and one from her father. "Can I get a coffee please?"

"Of course," the young blonde said, hurrying away to comply with the request at once.

Regina took a seat, elegantly crossed her legs and began replying to her parents. Yes, she was at the bank and yes, she was sure she wanted to spend her own money on a new car, she told her father. No, she wasn't going to be home for dinner, and yes, she did want her black Prada dress sent to the dry cleaners ahead of the charity ball she was expected to attend the following evening, she informed her mother.

By the time she had completed those tasks, a cup of coffee, made exactly as she liked it (black, one sugar) had appeared in front of her. She smiled her thanks at the blonde who responded with a bizarre move which could have been an attempt at a curtsey. Regina was used to people acting strangely around her. Her wealth made people nervous, she had realised at a young age. No one saw her as Regina. They saw her as Regina Mills, heiress to the Mills empire. Only Zelena treated her as a 'normal' person. But Zelena herself was, in theory, due to take over her own family's business. While Regina's family was wealthier than the Wests, compared to the majority of the population, they were the same; white, entitled, rich beyond belief.

Her cell vibrated. Zelena had been accosted by her mother and was going to be late so would meet her at the restaurant, the redhead wrote. Regina smirked. It was moments like these when she appreciated the freedom her parents afforded her. Her good grades and sensible attitude had led Regina to be trusted by her parents. True, neither Henry nor Cora Mills knew their eighteen-year-old daughter had a fake ID and went out clubbing every weekend but since she had never gotten into trouble and was always responsible, no harm was done.

Regina leaned back in the chair and sipped her coffee while she waited for her appointment. The blonde shot furtive looks at her every few seconds, as if worried Regina may protest at being made to wait. In reality, however, Regina was enjoying the peace and quiet. After a long week at school with final exams looming, she needed a few minutes of silence to allow her mind to wander.

It wandered, as it often did, to Danny. He was still waiting for her decision. It had been a week now. The freshman college student had asked Regina to make their relationship official the previous weekend but the brunette had hesitated. While they had been casually involved for a few months, Regina was still unsure. She liked Danny. He was smart and funny and charming and came from a good family. Her parents adored him. But Regina didn't feel that rush, that all-consuming desire which Hollywood and books talked about. She should wait for that, shouldn't she? For someone who made her heart beat out of her chest, made her body thrum with excitement and want. She was eighteen; she was young and beautiful and deserved true love. While she felt great affection for Danny, it wasn't love.

"Miss Mills," the receptionist said meekly. "Mr Gold will see you now."

Regina smiled and stood up, placing her empty coffee cup on the receptionist's desk and thanking her for the drink. The blonde blushed and gestured for Regina to make her way through to the manager's office. Somehow people always expected Regina to be stuck up and obnoxious but the brunette had been taught to respect and appreciate all those whom she came into contact with, unlike many members of the upper classes.

Through the dark wood double doors, Regina made her way down the plush carpeted corridor to meet Mr Gold. The office door was ajar but she knocked politely and waited for him to grant her entrance.

"Regina, my dear," Mr Gold said, standing up and hurrying around his desk to shake Regina's hand. The short man smiled at the young woman he had known for most of her life, remembering how the dark haired child had sat on her father's knee during his business meetings. And now she stood a little taller than himself, an adult in her own right.

"Robert, lovely to see you," Regina said, shaking the proffered hand before taking the seat Mr Gold pulled out for her. "How are you?"

"I'm very well thank you, and yourself?"

"Can't complain," Regina smiled. "And Milah, how is she?"

"Very well thank you. Your parents?"

"Perfect health," Regina replied.

"I'm very glad to hear that. Please send them both my regards."

"I will do."

"So, I suppose we should get started," Mr Gold said. "You want to discuss accessing some money your grandfather left you, correct?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "I want to buy a new car and Daddy says I must use my own money."

"Well, let's take a look at the trust conditions and what we can do for you today. Do you have a model in mind? Our chauffeur just upgrade to the latest Rolls Royce and it's a real dream."

"Yes I know, Daddy has one. It's lovely but I like to drive myself. Rolls and Bentleys are ideal as passengers but I'd like something a little smaller which I can drive in the city. The new Aston caught my eye."

"You have excellent taste," Mr Gold said. "But will there be an issue with insuring such a vehicle at your tender age?"

Regina let out a light laugh. "Oh no, I have my ways. You know the Wests, owners of West Insurance?"

"Indeed," Mr Gold said. "A fine family."

"Well, their daughter is my best friend so I have no doubt I'll be able to get coverage."

"Very well," Mr Gold said. "Let's take a look at the conditions of the trust and I'll see what we can do to get you your wheels."

* * *

The alley reeked of urine. It always amazed the blonde that even in the richest areas of the city, the underbelly was present. Emma and Lily waited where they were told, backs pressed against the brick wall, hidden from view behind a dumpster. Neal leaned causally at the alley entrance, watching Peter who was walking down the sidewalk towards them. As he passed Neal, Peter nodded once and kept moving. At the signal Neal returned to the two girls and grinned.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," Lily nodded.

"As I'll ever be," Emma said.

Neal frowned. "Hey, sweetheart. This is going to be awesome. We're going to be rich beyond belief in just a few minutes."

He leaned down to kiss Emma lightly. The blonde didn't kiss him back. Her stomach was doing flips; the nerves had finally kicked. It was one thing to plan such a feat, it was quite another to carry it out.

"Ski masks on, hoods up," Neal instructed.

The girls obeyed. Emma's clammy skin stuck to the wool as she pulled the black material over her face before flicking up her hood. The effect was stifling but necessary. Their faces couldn't be visible on any surveillance cameras.

"Keep your heads down," Neal said. "And follow me."

One after another, the trio exited the alley, walking quickly down 5th Avenue with their eyes glued to the sidewalk. Emma kept her gaze trained on the back of Neal's sneakers while Lily watched the scuffed backs of Emma's pumps. Metres from their target, they passed a security guard, leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette and talking in Spanish to, Emma guessed from what she understood based on the snippet of conversation she overheard, his wife.

Buried deep in her hoodie pocket, Emma's fingers closed around the cold handle of the gun as their pace slowed. She heard a squeak as Neal push the door open, followed his heels inside and finally looked up. Beside her, Lily had already pulled her weapon. Quickly, Neal pushed the doors closed again and slotted a heavy metal hook through both handles, barricading them closed. Turning around, he pulled his own gun from the inside of his jacket.

"Everybody, down on the ground now and no one gets hurt!" Neal bellowed, the barrel of his assault rifle sweeping the room.

Flanked by Emma and Lily, the trio advanced into the grand space as patrons and bank tellers inside New York Gold Capital screamed and dropped, bodies trembling, to the floor.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I started with a cliff hanger…


	2. The Extra

A/N: Thanks for the overwhelming support for this new story. A few people have referenced TV shows they think may have inspired me. However, the only TV episode I had in mind when I was toying with the idea was the Cops and Robbers episode of Castle (way back in Season 4 – retro!). I hadn't even heard of most of the series you guys mentioned! I'm pleased to read that, at least from a SwanQueen point of view, it's original, however.

* * *

"What was that?" Regina asked, turning her head towards the closed office door.

Mr Gold looked up from his computer screen where he had been reading through the conditions of Regina's trust. He frowned. He too had heard a noise from the front of the bank.

"I'm sure it's nothing," he assured the teenager sat before him whom, he noted, looked a little nervous. "Let me just check everything is ok with my receptionist."

Regina nodded and turned back to the bank manager, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. She strained her ears for any further sounds. It had sounded like screaming, she was sure. But now, everything was quiet. Mr Gold picked up his office phone and dialled.

* * *

As soon as everyone was lying on the ground, Neal used his free hand to throw Emma and Lily each a bunch of zip ties. The two girls set to work without further instruction. Emma pocketed her weapon, as Neal had told her to do. With the man himself close to her side, she set about securing the hands of all the hostages behind their backs. The duo moved quickly; Emma making her way across the bank floor, Neal's gun still sweeping the space, threatening anyone who dared think about making a move. No one did. They lay there, hardly making a sound as Emma looped the thin yet strong piece of plastic around their wrists and tightened it, restricting their movement.

Lily, working alone, kept her gun out as she walked to the locked door which led to the bank tellers, all of whom where crouched beneath their desks.

"You, open this door," she barked at the closest teller, gesturing with her gun to the door.

The man, a large gentleman of about fifty, hesitated for a second before complying with the command. His hands shook as he swiped the electronic card across the reader. There was a second's delay and then the light blinked green and the mechanism clicked. As soon as the door was open, he scrambled back to where he had been before. Three other tellers were also there; staring horrified at the figure now pointing a gun at them.

"Against the wall," Lily said, her voice flat and emotionless. "Hands behind your backs."

They complied at once, forcing their paralysed bodies to obey until all four of them stood, cheeks pressed against the cool wall and their hands behind their backs. Lily didn't put her gun down and instead made sure that the hard metal pressed against their hands as she secured the zip ties, one by one. She had barely secured the second victim, however, when the metal hook through the front doors rattled violently.

Neal turned to look at it briefly but didn't pay much attention to the security guard who was now pounding his fists pointlessly on the door. He had observed the man working for long enough to know that he wasn't the brightest spark. Not only was his smoke break like clockwork but his reactions were less than ideal for someone whose job was protecting a building which had vast amounts of money inside it. After a few moments, the pounding and shaking stopped. If Neal was correct, the man would be rushing around to the side door entrance in the alley.

Throughout the pounding, Lily and Emma had continued their work. They were almost done when another loud sound pierced the tense silence; this time a shrill ringing.

"What's that?" Emma asked, turning to look at Neal. The security guard's futile efforts had been anticipated. A phone call hadn't. She didn't move, however, and remained crouched beside a mother and her son, their hands forced awkwardly together behind them. The boy was crying; his face was streaked with tears. As Emma and Neal conversed, the mother tried to whisper something reassuring to him but the words caught in her throat.

Neal looked over at the receptionist desk where the ringing phone sat. "Change of plan," Neal spat, clearly irritated. "I'll finish up here, you move onto stage two. I'll be with you as soon as I can."

Nodding her understanding, Emma got to her feet, handed all but one of the zip ties to Neal and made her way to the back of the bank. As she passed the receptionist desk, the phone stopped ringing of its own accord.

"One more here, N," she called, pointing to the small blonde woman cowering under her desk. The woman squeaked as the barrel of Emma's gun hesitated in her direction but then the masked figure was gone, pushing through the doors which led to the back of the bank.

The corridor was just as Neal had described it. The plush red carpet, the dark wooden panels and the portraits of unknown men lining the walls. She glowered up at the closest one who gazed down at her; its expression patronising and superior. She turned left and counted the doors as she had been told. When she got to the correct office, she turned the handle and stepped inside, gun raised and trained on the grand desk opposite the door.

A scream pierced her ears and almost made her drop her weapon. She tightened her grip, clammy palms slipping slightly as her eyes snapped to the terrified young brunette for a moment before settling on the older man behind the desk, holding a phone in his hand.

"Drop it," Emma said.

The man did so, the receiver clattering to the desk as his hands rose in the air.

"Hang it up."

Again, the man complied, clicking a red button and replacing the phone back in its cradle. A whimper, magnified in the quiet room, made Emma's eyes dart to the unexpected guest.

"Stand up. Both of you. Hands in the air."

They did so. Emma hesitated for a moment. This had not been in the plan. How had they failed to foresee that the bank manager might have been in a meeting at the time? A single zip tie was clutched in her hand. With her gun trained on the young woman, Emma circled around the desk, deciding to at least complete the first step of this stage of the plan correctly.

"Hands behind your back," Emma barked.

The man did so, his fingers shaking. Emma ignored the evident fear and slid the gun into the waistband of her jeans so she could secure the zip tie. She pulled it tighter than she had on the people she had tied up earlier. No one could escape but the robust plastic was not cutting into their skin as it was the wrinkled flesh of Mr Gold's wrists. Satisfied, she pulled her gun out once more and circled around so she could see the man's face. It was white.

"Sit down," Emma said, pushing his desk chair away so the man was nowhere near the desk or phone. He hobbled over, limping slightly from an old injury but managed to stay upright.

Once the man was sat again, Emma turned to face the brunette who was stood, hands still raised. Her entire body was trembling. Emma took the woman in for the first time. She was young, not much older than Emma herself. But it was clear they came from two different worlds. The woman's hairstyle, the clothes she wore, the way she held herself, even in a terrifying situation exuded wealth. She was also, Emma's brain supplied unhelpfully, incredibly beautiful.

"Hands behind your back," Emma said, throat a little tight.

The woman complied, terrified brown eyes scanning Emma as if trying to read the person now advancing towards her holding a gun.

"Turn around."

This instruction was more so that Emma could work out what to do without her unexpected second hostage see her flounder. The woman turned on the spot, hands now clasped over her shapely ass. Great, Emma thought, that's going to help me think straight.

She looked down to avoid the temptation to stare at the woman's butt and spotted the loop of rope stuck out from beneath her hoodie. Placing her gun on the desk, she quickly untied and unthreaded the length of rope which she used as a belt. Her jeans didn't stay up well without them (she'd lost weight since she became homeless), but she needed something to tie up the young woman. Tucking the gun back into her now baggy waistband, Emma made her way over to teenager and wrapped the rope several times around her wrists. As she did so, she heard a sob.

Some of the hostages Emma had tied up on the bank floor had been crying too but she had ignored those tears. She felt nothing for them. These rich, entitled, privileged people for whom money and material possessions were limitless. No doubt the same was true about this girl too, Emma thought to herself. And yet, for some reason, her heart quivered at the sound. As she finished tying the woman's hands together, Emma noticed a small tattoo on the inside of the woman's wrist. It was a tiny, delicate crown. The icon should have made her angry; the fact that this person thought of themselves as royalty. But it didn't. Without thinking, Emma brushed the pad of one finger over the inked skin.

The sobs stopped. The body tensed. The woman had been terrified before but this wasn't just fear. It was defensive. Fear of something beyond being held hostage. Emma recognised the reaction. An involuntary gesture of her own had somehow terrified this girl even more than her gun. She hadn't meant for that to happen. The whole point of their plan was for no one to get hurt. Sure, those unlucky enough to be in the bank when the robbery went down might be a little shaken up but they never intended to hurt anyone. They wanted money, not blood. But this girl didn't know that. This young woman thought Emma was there to hurt her and, she realised, a display of tenderness had scared her even more.

She stepped back, pulling the gun free from her waistband once more.

"Sit down," she said, herself grabbing one of the free chairs which faced Mr Gold's desk and dragging it further back so she was sat equidistance between her two hostages.

"What do you want?" Mr Gold asked as Regina sank back into her chair.

"What I deserve," Emma replied simply. "What we deserve."

She swung her legs over the arm of the chair and leaned back, the gun trained on Mr Gold. The girl was no threat. She had no value to their plan. They didn't need her. And Emma also didn't want to be distracted by those deep chocolate eyes, filled with tears.

"Money?"

She laughed. "Of course."

"There's no money in my office," Mr Gold said.

"Oh, I know," Emma chuckled. "I'm just going to wait here for a while until my friends join us. They shouldn't be long now."

Mr Gold's eyes flicked to the door of his office, then to Regina and finally back to Emma.

"Let her go," he said. "She doesn't need to be here."

Emma didn't look at the woman she knew Mr Gold was talking about. She didn't trust herself to look at the beautiful woman and be able to keep her head straight.

"She doesn't need to be here but she is, so she'll have to stay," Emma said. "Don't worry, if you do what we want, no one needs to get hurt."

* * *

With the tellers secured, Lily waved her gun to direct the four bank workers into the main area of the bank to join Neal's, gathered in the middle of the room. They moved awkwardly, the inability to use their hands making it difficult to get up and shuffle over to where their masked captors told them to sit. There were eleven civilians in the bank at the time they had entered, plus the receptionist and the four tellers. More than Neal had planned for but nothing they couldn't handle. Especially once Peter arrived.

Telling Lily to keep an eye on them all, Neal headed out into the back corridor but instead of turning left, he turned right. Lily positioned herself a few metres away from the group and growled out that if anyone so much as moved a muscle, they would get shot.

At the far end of the corridor, Neal reached a fire exit door. An old peeling sticker warned him that the door was alarmed. But he knew it wasn't. The alarm system had been broken for over a decade. Pushing on the bar quickly, the door swung open and Peter stepped inside from where he had been waiting in the alley. Neal peered past him and spotted the security guard, unconscious and tied up, leaning against a dumpster. The door closed again.

"Nice work," Neal said.

"Easy," Peter replied. "Fat lump didn't see me coming. Swiped the card just like you told me." He handed over the security access card to Neal. "All good in here?"

"Yeah," Neal nodded. "Got more people than I'd like but it's fine."

Before Peter could say anything, a loud crack rang out followed by several screams and a howl of pain. Both men looked at one another and then raced back to the front of the bank.

"What the fuck, L?" Neal asked when he saw the scene in front of him.

"He moved," Lily shrugged. "I warned him."

"Fucking hell," Neal said, gritting his teeth as he walked over to the man who was now writhing on the floor. Blood had sprayed across the marble tiles and more oozed from the gunshot in his leg. "P, tie something around his thigh so he doesn't die. I don't need this shit. Stick to the fucking plan from now on, ok?"

Obeying the command, Peter dug through his pockets until he found a length of twine. It would do. He approached the man who was whimpering in pain. Without looking at him, he tied the string halfway up the man's thigh. As he pulled it tighter, the man let out a wail.

"Wimp," Peter muttered as he stood up. With a glance at the other hostages who were all ashen, huddled together a little way away from the injured man, he headed to Lily and Neal who were talking quietly on the far side of the room.

"P, you're in charge," Neal said when he reached them. "Don't let this trigger happy idiot kill any hostages, ok? She's probably already set off the fucking shot alert for the local precinct. I wanna be out of here in five minutes, ok? Grab what you can. Remember, the strap of bottom bills in each draw are connected to the security system, so leave them but take whatever else is there. Meet at the back door in five. F will be there."

Peter nodded his understanding as Neal strode away towards the back of bank once more.

* * *

At the sound of the gunshot and screams, Emma, Regina and Mr Gold had all looked at the door.

"What was that? What's happening?" Regina asked, her voice higher than usual. Her heart pounded against her ribs, as if desperate to escape the fate of the captured body it was stuck in.

Emma didn't reply. She knew what 'that' was but could only imagine what had happened. She also knew 'that' hadn't been part of the plan. Her fingers tightened once more on her own gun. Regina noticed the movement and her heart beat impossibly faster.

"Shall we talk about what you want?" Mr Gold asked, after a moment. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement so we all walk out of here alive."

"Shut up," Emma spat.

"There's money in the vault. Jewels. Other valuables too. I could take you there."

Emma ignored him. The fact that the man had described exactly what their plan was meant nothing. It was Neal's job to walk the bank manager to the vault. Emma's job was to make sure the bank manager didn't alert the police or trigger their security system before they had a chance to secure the front of the bank. Emma was doing her job. Nothing more.

A sniffle from behind her made Emma's gaze slide, involuntarily, to the teenager sat awkwardly in the chair. She was staring down into her lap, avoiding looking at Emma. As she watched, a tear fell and soaked into the black fabric of the woman's skirt. Something inside Emma twinged.

She forced her eyes away and looked stoically back at Mr Gold who looked like he was trying to think of something else to offer the woman holding him hostage. As he thought, a quiet whirring noise filled the room for a moment and then died away.

"What was that?" Emma asked, sitting up straighter.

Mr Gold looked from the computer on his desk and then up to the ceiling. The screen had flashed up an alert momentarily and the little red light was no longer blinking. "Security cameras have been disabled."

Good, Emma thought. Their plan was back on track, no matter what was going on in the rest of the bank. Peter must have managed to get the swipe card from the ambushed security guard and given it to Neal. That meant Peter was inside and Neal was on his way towards Emma. Neal would know what to do with their extra hostage. But …her thoughts faltered. Neal wouldn't want to hurt her, would he? The woman was expendable to their plan but Neal wasn't going to 'expend' of her, was he?

"What's your next move then?" the man asked, his curiosity piqued by how far the young woman and her team appear to have advanced past his bank's security system.

But before Emma had a chance to formulate a snarky reply, the door to the office opened.

"Who's that?" Neal asked as he walked into the room, rifle raised as he took in the presence of an unexpected person. Regina gasped at the appearance of a second weapon. All guns were deadly but there was something more aggressive about the assault rifle compared to the smaller pistol the woman had. Or perhaps it was more to do with the person holding each weapon. Neal was taller, larger and more assured than Emma. The way he held his gun, Regina had no doubt that he would pull the trigger if the moment arose.

"Dunno," Emma replied, jumping to her feet. "Tied her up though. Him too. What happened?"

"Your friend happened. She's unhinged."

Emma looked guilty. It had been her idea to bring Lily onto the team. The girl was tough, practical, no nonsense. But she was also damaged, traumatised and unpredictable. Clearly Lily had failed to stick to Neal's plan. "What did she do?"

"Something stupid," Neal replied. "Shot one of them hostages."

"Is he dead?"

"Nah," Neal replied. "But she probably set the fucking shot alert off. We've only got a few minutes. Um," he glanced at Regina for a moment. His eyebrows knitted together briefly, "you'd better stay here with her. I'll take him to the vault."

Emma nodded and swallowed thickly. She wasn't sure if the tightness in her throat was to do with the news that Lily had shot someone or because she had been instructed to hold a gorgeous woman hostage while her friend robbed a bank. A combination, no doubt, she decided.

Neal passed her and pointed his rifle right at the bank manager's chest. "Up."

The man obeyed, wobbling slightly as he did so on his weaker leg. Regina watched, her eyes pleading as the man slowly made his way around the desk and limped towards the door, Neal's gun now pressed against the base of his spine.

"It'll be ok," the older man murmured to her as he passed. "Just do as they say."

Regina didn't say anything. She continued to watch the two men until they were out of sight. Once they were, it suddenly dawned on her that she was now alone with someone else holding a gun. Her gaze snapped back to the masked woman opposite her. Emma had sat back down, her legs swung lazily over the arm of the chair, feet swinging back and forth. The gun glinted in the late afternoon sun shining through the frosted office window. It was resting on the woman's stomach but the barrel was pointing directly at Regina.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was only ten minutes past four. The whole ordeal so far had barely lasted five minutes. And yet it felt like the longest five minutes of her life. She looked back at the woman. The mask obscured most of her features and her bulky hoodie hid her body but Regina could tell she was young and slim. Straggles of blonde hair stuck out from the hood, tangled and in desperate need of a trim. In fact, everything about the girl screamed desperation.

The clothes, the grimy fingernails now tapping against the gun's grip, the muddy pumps stuck out of the end of her skinny jeans, which had once been black but were now grey and stained. And then there was the bank robbery. If that wasn't an act of desperation, Regina didn't know what was. No one got away with robbing a bank. Whatever had happened to this woman, whatever she had gone through, this must have seemed like the only option left.

Regina had always had options. All her life, every door was open to her. From education to material possessions to experiences. Her family holidays varied from skiing to Caribbean islands to tours of Europe. She had gone to the best schools, worn the most stylish clothes and eaten the highest quality food all her life. What had this girl's holidays, schools, wardrobes, evenings out looked like?

Being born rich meant Regina knew no different. Her mother was a snob. Cora Mills had married up and relished the fact that she was no longer poor. She took and revelled in any opportunity to spend and flaunt her wealth. Her father, however, who came from money, was much humbler and down to earth. These traits of Henry Mills had been passed to his only daughter and he had always taught her the value of money as well as the need to respect everyone, regardless of the size of their bank accounts. Did this girl even have a bank account?

"I'm Regina," she said after about a minute.

The girl's legs froze, heels suspended in the air. Slowly, she turned her head. "What?"

"Regina. My name is Regina."

"So," Emma replied, resuming her leg swinging and returning her gaze to the gun in her lap.

"What's yours?"

"Gathering information to tell the police later?" Emma asked, not looking at the woman.

"No, just passing the time," Regina replied. In fact, Emma's accusation had only just occurred to her. She would be talking to the police; soon, hopefully. She was being held hostage at gunpoint in a bank. Of course the police were going to ask her about those who perpetrated the crime. She knew there were at least three people involved. The man who was with Mr Gold, the woman in front of her and someone else who had already shot another hostage. Regina shivered. Engaging in conversation with the girl was a bad idea. While something inside Regina was telling her the young woman wasn't dangerous, the gun pointed at her told a different story. She didn't say anything more.

Almost a full minute passed before another sound was made and even then it was so quiet Regina wasn't sure she had heard correctly.

"Emma. My name is Emma."

* * *

A/N: I've never been homeless but as a kid growing up in the countryside I was always using rope as a belt and all my coat pockets, to this day, have pieces of twine in them.


	3. The Name

A/N: Happy Sunday one and all. I had a philosophical moment in a taxi and this happened.

* * *

Life is full of decisions. Every day, every hour, we make choices in our lives. Most of them are governed by basic human needs and desires: what to eat for breakfast, which bottle of shampoo to purchase, when to switch off the television and go to bed. The majority of these choices are inconsequential. If our breakfast wasn't quite filling enough, we pick up a mid morning snack. If the shampoo doesn't work well with our hair type, we persevere until we need to buy a new bottle or palm it off to someone we live with. If the end of the television show wasn't worth staying up later, we rise a little more tired than usual the following morning; the disappointing entertainment quite forgotten.

But some decisions do matter. Life changing decisions like what higher education to pursue, which jobs to apply for, who to marry, whether to have children, where to live. These choices are momentous and change the course of your life. No one can ever truly know what their life would have been like had they chosen the 'other' option. But we all wonder.

Years later, Emma often wondered how differently her life would have been had she not told Regina her name. It hadn't been a carefully calculated decision. She had barely put any thought into it at all. They had just been words to fill the weighty silence. Their significance; the potential power of those words, only became real when her eyes locked with Regina's seconds later.

She stood up abruptly and walked over to the door which Neal had left open. Peering out into the corridor, she saw no one. She didn't expect to see anyone. She just wanted a distraction. Anything to get her away from the woman she knew was still watching her. She felt hot. Even inside the cool bank, the warm summer's day permeated the building. Her hoodie was thick and cumbersome. The ski mask wasn't helping matters. Rough wool scratched against her skin. She rubbed her face through the material but it did nothing to ease the irritation.

"What's your plan?"

Emma turned around, gun held at her side. "What?"

"Your plan," Regina repeated. "You must have a plan."

"Of course we have a plan," Emma said.

"And does that plan involve getting out of here alive?" For some reason, Emma's reveal had relaxed Regina slightly. She knew she was still in danger but, she was sure, not from the young blonde who was supposed to be guarding her.

Emma said nothing. She crossed back to her seat and sat down, the barrel of her gun now rested on her knee but no longer pointed directly at Regina.

"Are you going to hurt Mr Gold?"

"Who?"

"The bank manager," Regina said.

"Oh. No, not if he does what we want."

"And if he doesn't?" Regina didn't know why she asked. She was curious, she supposed, to understand the calibre of criminal she was being held by. Of course, she already knew one of them had fired their gun but the reaction of Emma and the man who appeared to be the group's leader seemed to be disapproving. It hadn't been part of their plan.

"He'll do what we want," Emma said, definitively. She seemed confident of this; confident in her partner's ability to make Mr Gold do whatever it was that their plan entailed.

"And me? What do you want from me?"

Emma allowed her gaze to meet Regina's once more. The woman really was stunning. Her cropped dark brown hair curled perfectly as it reached her sharp jawline. Her lips were painted a delicate red, matching the subtle make up around her eyes. It was slightly smudged, Emma noticed. From her tears. The way she dressed and looked gave off a professional, mature, self-assured vibe but the woman's skin made Emma think the girl was not much older than herself. It was flawless; lightly tanned and glowing with youth.

"Nothing," Emma said quietly. "You weren't supposed to be here."

"I wasn't?" Regina frowned. "You didn't plan this?"

"We didn't plan you, no," Emma said, confused at the woman's reactions. "Why would you think we had?"

"No reason," Regina said, dropping her gaze to her lap.

Her situation was no better, Regina reasoned. She was still being held hostage, at gun point by a masked assailant. But she wasn't the target. And, incredibly, she hadn't been recognised. Most people in New York would know Regina's face. Her family was high profile and her photo had appeared in the paper enough times. But somehow, miraculously, this woman had no clue that she had the power to hold one of the country's richest family's to ransom. As long as Emma never found out who she was, perhaps they would be ok.

I shouldn't have told her my name, Regina thought to herself. Unknown to the brunette, the same musing was running through the blonde's head at exactly the same time.

* * *

"Fucking piece of shit," Felix said through gritted teeth as he wiggled the lock-pick this way and that.

Why did he get stuck with this job? Emma was much better at it than him. Neal too. But no, those two had to get the fun tasks. He glanced up and down the quiet side street. It was still empty. The watch on his wrist, stolen off a client just a few days before he met Neal, told him he had less than ten minutes to be at the meeting spot. He refocused his efforts once more on trying to open the door to the car which was going to become their getaway vehicle. He had already taken the plates off to prevent detection.

The lock remained stubbornly in place. Huffing out his frustration, Felix sat himself more comfortably on the edge of the sidewalk and started again, trying to remember exactly how Emma had taught him to position the lock-picks so that the tumblers would slide into place.

Less than a minute later, he heard the click he had been waiting for. Grinning, he pulled the tools free, jumped to his feet and opened the driver's door. Unlocking all the other doors was his first task, so the rest of his team could get in quickly once he was in position. He then set to work hotwiring the car. Pulling the panel free from the steering column with a hard wrench, he selected the wires he needed. Cutting and stripping two down using the wire-cutter Neal had given him, he twisted their bare ends together. The dashboard lights flickered to life. Grinning, he turned his attention to the more dangerous live wire. Once that was bare, he gingerly connected it to the two twisted wires. The engine turned over feebly.

"Come on," Felix growled.

He tried again, this time with his foot lightly on the gas pedal. The engine spluttered to life, a plume of black smoke ejecting itself from the disused engine. The car had been selected for a reason; namely that it hadn't been driven for weeks and therefore was most likely to be where it had been parked on the day of the robbery. The old model also didn't have an alarm system and would be easy to hotwire, as Felix had proved. They also doubted it would be missed in a hurry and that they would be able to clear the state before any alert was put out. The downside was that it was a hunk of junk. And once they escaped Manhattan and its streets of taxis, glaringly obvious. Yellow really wasn't the colour for a getaway vehicle.

Deciding not to think any more about Neal's reasoning for choosing this exact car, Felix adjusted the seat and put the car into gear. Slowly, he edged the VW Beetle out of its space and headed towards the prearranged meeting point.

* * *

They walked in silence down the corridor. Outside an unmarked door, Neal stopped and used a security card to gain access. Mr Gold said nothing. How did this man know the layout of the bank so well? On the other side of the door, they descended the stairs into the basement, the air growing steadily cooler as they headed into the bowels of the building. Less than a minute later, they were at their destination.

"Open it," Neal said, the barrel of his gun still poking Mr Gold in the back.

The man complied, unlocking the vault with a series of keys which only he had access to. The heavy, reinforced steel door swung open.

"Inside."

Following Mr Gold's limping steps, Neal advanced into the vault. From inside his jacket, he pulled out several canvas bags. Placing them on the floor, he crouched down, one hand still holding the rifle, and began to grab stacks on money from the nearest shelf and stuffing them into the first bag. He took only twenties and fifties. Hundred dollar bills were awkward. Tens, fives and ones were too small.

Mr Gold watched silently as Neal systematically robbed the bank. There was nothing he could do to stop what was happening. His wrists ached from where they had been strapped together. His ankle ached dully. The cane which he usually used to aid his walking was resting against his desk.

The first bag filled, Neal moved to the second one. And then the third. With all three bags filled he stood. Picking them up one by one, he moved them out into the corridor, leaving Mr Gold still inside the vault. The old man's heart began to race. Was he about to be locked in his own bank vault?

"Out," Neal said when the money had all been moved.

With a little sigh of relief, Mr Gold hobbled out. The door swung shut behind him. With the narrow barrel of the rifle digging into his spine once more, he began to walk back up the stairs. Neal carried the money, breathing heavily with the effort. It was heavier than he had expected it to be. Once they reached the corridor, he placed the bags on the floor and took in a deep breath. Mr Gold's ankle was tingling unpleasantly. A poke to his ribs got him moving again however, not towards his office but away from it. Leaving the money where he had stacked it, Neal steered Mr Gold further down the corridor until they reached a locked door.

"Open."

Mr Gold complied, frowning. When the door was open, the duo moved inside. For a moment, his captor seemed to freeze, gazing around at the uniform boxes lining the wall. This was a strange move, Mr Gold decided. Sure, some of the safe deposit boxes contained valuables but not all. Some of them merely contained business papers or letters; worthless to everyone but their owners. He knew a few philatelists who rented boxes even though their collections were only worth a couple of thousand dollars. The thief had already secured far more than that from the vault in cold hard cash.

"Box 227."

The blood in his veins seemed to run cold. Gold stared, aghast at the masked man who was now standing beside him, staring at the box he had requested. The one box in the entire room which Mr Gold had a personal connection to. The one box which, as far as Mr Gold was concerned, contained priceless possessions.

"What?"

"You heard. Box 227. Open it."

"N-no," Mr Gold stuttered.

As a bank manager, he had undergone a number of training courses and seminars over the years on the subject of bank robberies and hostage situations. The general consensus was to do whatever was asked of you. Stay alive. The moment the young woman and later this man had appeared in his office, Mr Gold knew he would comply to any demand. Not only for his sake but for Regina's. And yet, here he was, denying a direct order.

"Open it," Neal repeated.

"No," Mr Gold said, a little more firmly.

Neal turned to the man. Beneath the mask, he was snarling. "Open the fucking box." A jab of the barrel of the rifle directly into Mr Gold's ribs accompanied these words.

"Why that box?" Mr Gold asked. "Choose another. Please."

"I don't want any other box. I want Box 227. Open it now or I'll take your keys and do it myself."

The keychain attached to Mr Gold's belt was packed full and weighty. It would take this stranger longer than he would dare spend to find the correct combination. The safety deposit boxes were all opened using two keys. One was held by the box owner, the other was the manager's key. Mr Gold had a skeleton key which could unlock any box when paired with the manager's key. However, the two were slotted onto the bundle far apart. Each key was unmarked. There were thousands of potential combinations and many of the keys were almost indistinguishable from one another. If he refused, Mr Gold was fairly sure the masked assailant would not succeed in gaining access to the box. However, he was also confident his refusal would be met with severe repercussions. Was he willing to defend the contents of that box with his life?

* * *

Peter and Lily stood side by side, each of them training their weapons on the group of hostages clustered in the middle of the bank. The injured man lay on the floor a little way away. He had cried pitifully for a few minutes but was now quiet. Conscious, alive but silent. Lily's eyes showed no emotion; completely unaffected by her actions. Peter, however, was starting to feel nervous. Neal had been gone for several minutes. Emma hadn't returned. The plan was for Neal to take the bank manager to the vault and for Emma to come back to the main part of the bank. Then all three of them were to move through to the corridor, collect the money and escape. Why hadn't Emma arrived?

"Shut up," Lily barked, noticing that two of the hostages had been whispering to one another.

They stopped at once, terrified at this volatile, unpredictable masked individual who seemed to have no qualms when it came to following through on threats. Peter was nervous too. He didn't know Lily well. He didn't trust her. He wished it had been Felix here with him and that Lily had been assigned his best friend's role. That said, he didn't think he trusted Lily to actually show up when she was needed. At least he knew Felix wouldn't let them down.

He glanced at Lily then at the doors, through which Neal had disappeared and where he knew Emma must still be. He desperately wanted to go and find out what was happening but he didn't dare leave Lily. This bank robbery wasn't supposed to hurt anyone. These hostages were innocent; wrong place, wrong time. If left alone with Lily, he didn't dare think what might happen if one of them did something to displease her.

A rattle behind him made him jump. He turned to see the metal hook shaking where it was wedged between the door handles. Moments later, fists pounded on the frosted glass, followed by a indistinguishable shout, muffled through the heavy door.

"What do we do?" Peter asked Lily in a whisper.

"Nothing," Lily replied. "They can't get in."

Talking could be heard outside the bank now. Whomever had been trying to get in was alerting others that something was wrong. They were running out of time. While Peter felt a wave of nerves, the hostages experienced a surge of hope. Help was on the way.

* * *

In the underground garage, Zelena switched off her car engine and climbed out, school books tucked beneath one arm. Before reached the door which led to the main house, she slipped off her shoes; desperate to not alert her mother to her presence. She had already texted the family driver and told him to meet her outside in ten minutes.

Tiptoeing through the house, Zelena climbed the sweeping marble staircase and crept down the grand hallway to her bedroom. Tossing her books onto the bed, she went straight to her walk-in wardrobe and located the new dress she had told Regina about it. Selecting her favourite Louboutin's, she plucked her Prada purse from its shelf and headed into her en-suite to pick up her make up bag. Within minutes, she was ready to leave again.

As she walked back downstairs, she texted Regina to let her know she was on her way.

"Zeezee?"

The teenager groaned inwardly halfway down the staircase. Her mother had the hearing power of a bat.

"Hi Ma," she called. "I'm just heading out to meet Regina. I'm going to be late if I don't leave now."

"Come here first," Mrs West called from the drawing room. Her distain for people who were late for appointments was trumped by her desire to see her daughter.

Zelena huffed but obeyed the command, appearing seconds later in front of her mother who was arranging flowers in a vase on a Victorian dining table.

"Hi sweetheart. How was school? Are you dining with us tonight? The Franklins are coming. They're bringing Frederick. You like Frederick, don't you? Charming young man." The fact that Mrs West had not had spoken to anyone except their household staff all day was painfully obvious. With Zelena's father away on business, she was lonely and her aloof teenage daughter did nothing to help.

"No, Ma, I have plans with Regina," Zelena replied. "And I don't like Freddie. You like Freddie. I think Freddie is a dick."

"Zeezee," Mrs West scolded. "Language."

"Exactly. Language you don't want me to use in front of the Franklins. So I think it's best if I don't come tonight. Ok, bye."

She turned to leave but her mother protested. "Zeezee, come on, sweetheart. I haven't seen you all week. Rearrange with Regina and see her tomorrow."

"I can't, Ma," Zelena insisted. "How about tomorrow you and I go for lunch somewhere. Jewel? We can go for a walk in Central Park afterwards. My shout?"

"Your shout?" Mrs West repeated, wrinkling her nose. "Firstly, please speak properly. Your father and I are spending a fortune on your education so the least you could do is form sentences. Secondly, who gives you your allowance? Your money is essentially our money. You don't have a job, remember?"

"Yeah but I'm choosing to spend my allowance on you which makes me a loving, thoughtful, generous daughter," Zelena pointed out. "Ma, I really have to go. I said I'd meet Regina and I don't want her to be waiting for me."

"Fine," Mrs West acquiesced. "But you're taking me to lunch tomorrow. Not Jewel though. Let's do Indigo."

"Ok, thanks Ma. I hope the dinner party goes well. Say hi to Freddie for me," Zelena said, placing a kiss on her mother's cheek before heading out of the room.

* * *

The chime of Regina's cell phone had broken the silence which had fallen over the two women. Emma hadn't had a phone for months. The one she had had when she ran away from her foster family had been stolen out of a shelter less than a week after she had reached New York.

"Who's that?" she asked, standing up.

"I don't know," Regina replied. "It's not like I can see my phone. Nor use my hands to check it."

She wasn't sure where the irritable sass had come from. But she was definitely feeling comfortable enough in her captor's presence to express her distain. Emma didn't seem to react. She was used to being spoken to in such a manner.

"Where is it?"

"My purse," Regina said, nodding to the item which rested against the leg of the chair where she was sat.

Emma crossed the room and picked it up. The soft leather was warm to the touch and the entire product oozed quality. She opened it and saw two cell phones. Rich bitch, she thought to herself. Pulling them both out, she let the bag fall to the floor. A lipstick rolled away and disappeared under Mr Gold's desk. Regina's car keys lay splayed on the carpet, the Mercedes emblem yet another display of her wealth, winking haughtily up at Emma in the afternoon sunlight.

Pressing both home buttons, Emma saw the notification which had chimed.

"Who's Zelena?"

"My best friend. She's meeting me here in five minutes. If she can't get in. She'll call the police."

"Well, this text says she's going to be ten minutes late so I guess that means we have fifteen minutes until that happens," Emma said, dumping both phones on Mr Gold's desk. "Don't worry, we'll be long gone before she gets here then you two can get back to your perfect rich lives."

Strolling back to her chair, Emma sat down, arms folded. Regina watched her, considering the bitter tone in which the woman spoke.

"My life isn't perfect," Regina said quietly.

"Oh yeah? What's wrong in your life? Did your new Gucci dress not arrive on time? Or was the caviar you ate for lunch not as tasty as the scallops and truffles your nanny cooked for your dinner last night?"

Despite herself, Regina couldn't help but chuckle. The perception of how the rich lived always fascinated her. Sure, she'd eaten caviar and scallops and truffles but only at lavish events. Her evening meals were usually pretty basic, although they were cooked by their live-in chef. And she never ordered her clothes online. In fact, she hated clothes shopping but when she did go, her mother took her to boutiques where she was presented with an assortment of garments and picked the few she liked. Ok, perhaps that was a little pretentious.

"What's so funny, rich girl?" Emma asked, her gun, which had been resting by her side, now raised slightly.

Regina sobered at once as she registered the movement of the weapon. "Nothing," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. It's just … I'm not like that."

"Whatever," Emma huffed. "You rich people are all the same. Never thinking about anyone but yourself."

Being called selfish, for that was what Emma was implying, was one of Regina's pet peeves. Yes, she had money but she was far from selfish. She liked to think of herself as generous and humble and in touch with the world, despite her privileged upbringing. She hated being seen as one of the snobbish, entitled individuals whom she, just as Emma, detested.

"Not all rich people are selfish. Just like not all tramps rob banks and hold innocent people hostage," she shot back without thinking. "How about you don't judge me without even knowing me and I don't judge you based on what I've seen so far?"

"What you've seen?" Emma snarled. "What? The trampy girl who comes in here and holds you at gunpoint? No, I think you can pretty much tell from that what sort of person I am. Whatever you think of me based on today, it's probably bang on the money. Just like what I think about you is true. You may not want to hear it but you're spoilt little rich girl."

"So this is what you wanted to do, was it? This was your plan? Robbing a bank? Holding people hostage? You really thought up this genius plan? Come on, we both know that man is the leader. How did he talk you into it? Surely we all know it's not going to work. Bank robberies never end well."

"No, they end with dead fucking hostages," Emma said, jumping to her feet and advancing on Regina. "Shut the fuck up. You don't know me, ok? You don't know anything about me."

"I know you don't want to be here," Regina replied, bravely. "I can see it in your eyes, Emma. You regretted getting involved the moment you walked through the door. And now you're stuck. But you don't have to be. You can end this now. Let me go. Let us all go. Then disappear and never come back."

Before Emma had a chance to answer, Peter appeared in the doorway, face flushed.

"Who's that?" he asked, taking in the women Emma was now towering over.

"Some rich bitch," Emma said, turning to her colleague. "What's up?"

"Cops," Peter replied. "They're here. Outside. Now."

"Shit," Emma said.

* * *

A/N: drama, drama, drama!


	4. The Deserter

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short. I had a crappy start to the week and didn't have time/energy to write a full chapter but I'll try to make it up to you this weekend!

* * *

"Stay here with her," Emma said, nodding her head towards Regina who looked nervous again at the appearance of yet another person. Now there were at least four people involved in the bank robbery. "I'll get N. Where's L?"

"Still at the front of the bank. I wouldn't want to leave her alone with the hostages too long though. She got mad when we heard the sirens. Fucking nutjob," Peter said.

"Lemme get N. Then we'll get out of here."

Without another word, Emma headed out of the room and began to run down the corridor. While it wasn't her responsibility to go the vault, Neal had told her where it was. But when she reached the door which led to the underground safe, she found three bags stacked against the wall. The door was shut. Opening one of the bags, she saw it was stuffed with cash.

"N?" she called, looking behind her.

Had the man passed back down the corridor towards the front of the bank? No, she would have seen him. She carried on, still running. It didn't take long for her to spot the other open door, through which she dashed.

"What the fuck is going on?" she cried out when she saw the two men inside the room.

Mr Gold was unconscious on the floor, a cut on his forehead and a steady trickle of blood seeping from it. He looked smaller down there. Weak, defenceless, vulnerable. Neal was standing before one of thousands of boxes, muttering under his breath.

"Neal, what the fuck?" Emma repeated, advancing into the room and stepping over the knocked out bank manager towards her friend.

"Gimme a minute," Neal said, not looking over his shoulder; too focused on the task in hand.

"We don't have a minute. The cops are here."

"Fuck," Neal growled. "Already?"

"Peter said so. We need to go. Now. Felix will be here with the car. Come on, else we're all fucked."

"Two more minutes," Neal said, trying another two keys in the narrow slits.

"What are you even doing?" Emma asked. "We've got the money. Why are you trying to get into this tiny box?"

Neal didn't answer. He just continued his task of trying every single key on Gold's keychain in the locks of the safety deposit box marked with ornate numbers: 227.

"Emma! Back off," Neal snapped. "Get the others and I'll meet you by the back door as soon as I'm done here."

Ducking her head, averting her eyes, Emma nodded and retreated, stepping over Mr Gold's body on the way out. She didn't dare anger Neal. The man didn't usually raise his voice at Emma but she had been shouted at enough times in her life by men and she always did her best not to antagonise them further. In the corridor, she began to run back towards Regina and Peter.

* * *

Felix shifted the car into reverse and carefully began to back the vehicle down the alley. He had been sceptical about the plan when Neal first told him. Surely an alley was a bad place to be if they were trying to make a quick getaway. But because of the structure of the bank and the city block, it was the only exit. He edged backwards down the narrow street, keeping equidistance from both walls so all four doors could be opened when his crew joined him.

He backed slowly up to the dumpster, noting as he did so that the security guard was passed out beside it. That was a good sign. That was part of the plan. He got as close to the door as he could and stopped, leaving the engine idling. He glanced around, looked at his watch and wondered how long he would have to wait. His team were due any minute. He had almost been late thanks to the trouble he had had with the car door lock.

He switched on the radio and fiddled with the manual dial to try and get service. But the tall building which surrounded him left every station crackled with static. He gave up and shut it off, looking to his left at the door once more. It was then that he saw it.

Blue lights bounced off the brickwork at the far end of the alley. He whipped his head over his shoulder and stared as one, two, three, four police cars flashed past the entrance. Even in New York, that was unusual. And a bad sign for him.

"Fuck," he muttered.

Turning back around, his hands gripped the steering wheel. The police were there. They knew. It was over. And yet, the police didn't know that Felix was there. He could leave. Right now. Leave and get out and save himself. But what about Peter? Peter was his only friend, the only person who truly understood him. And Neal. Sure the man was a little odd, fixated on this bank robbery and obsessed with this one bank only despite easier targets being suggested. Emma had been nice to him from the moment they teamed up. She was sweet. Lily, well, Lily had been through what she and Peter had. He understood her; understood the rage.

Could he leave them? They were counting on him, relying on him. If they managed to get out and he wasn't there waiting, they were screwed. But if he waited, if the police spotted him, he was screwed too.

In the rear view mirror, two more police cars flew past. His knuckles were white on the wheel, his mind racing. What to do? What was the right thing to do? An odd question when in the context of being a getaway driver for a bank robbery. Movement in the mirror caught his eye. He groaned. That was it, his mind was made up. As the two police officers who had appeared in the alleyway began to jog towards the parked car, Felix accelerated quickly away.

He had to. He couldn't go to prison. He had to save himself.

At the end of the alleyway, he pulled out without looking, sending a passing car swerving into a streetlamp. But Felix avoided the collision and put his foot down, tyres screeching as they gained purchase on the asphalt and propelled him away from the police, away from the banks, away from his friends. At the end of the street he turned left, following the agreed upon route which would take him as fast as possible out of Manhattan, out of New York City, out of the state. Out of trouble.

* * *

"Rush hour traffic sucks," Zelena sighed as her driver came to a stop at the back of a long queue of cars crawling down Sixth Avenue.

She glanced at her cell phone. There as no reply from Regina. Presumably her friend was still in her meeting. She asked her driver to turn on the stereo, her Bluetooth connecting instantly. At least she had Spotify to pass the time. The lights changed at the end of the block and the traffic shifted forwards slowly. And then stopped again.

"Is there another route you can take? I'm going to be late," Zelena asked her driver.

"No Miss West, sorry," came the meek reply. "There's been some sort of accident I think. I can see police lights ahead. Looks like a bit of a mess down there. We're only a couple of blocks away though."

Zelena raised an eyebrow and caught the man's eye in the rear view mirror. "Are you suggesting I walk?"

The man grinned and after a moment, Zelena chuckled. "Fine, Walsh. Thanks for driving almost all the way."

"You're welcome, Miss West. If you need to be collected later tonight, just message me and I'll come. Any time, any place."

"Thank you, Walsh," Zelena said as she picked up her handbag and overnight bag before getting out of the car.

The traffic on both sides of the road was stationary and Zelena weaved her way through the congestion until she reached the sidewalk. One bag over each shoulder, she began to stroll towards the bank, firing another text off to Regina to let her know she was almost there.

* * *

"What's that?" Peter asked as Regina's cell chimed again.

The woman didn't speak. It wasn't that Emma didn't scare her but this new person who was keeping guard of her was unknown. She had no idea how volatile he was. The masked captor saw her cell on Gold's desk and snatched it up. Glaring at the screen and then up at Regina, he was about to say something when Emma ran back into the room, three large bags in her hands.

"You didn't take her fucking cell?" he asked, waving the device at the blonde who was panting and looked frantic.

"Her hands are behind her back," Emma snapped, dropping the bags at her feet. "It's not like she could text, was it? Anyway, we've got bigger problems than that. N is … diverting from the plan."

"What does that mean?" Peter asked, slamming the cell back onto the desk.

"It means we've got to get the fuck out of here. Take two of these, get L and meet me by the back door."

Without a word, Peter nodded and headed towards the front of the bank, two bags filled with cash in his hands. Emma glanced at Regina for a moment.

"You're leaving me here?" Regina asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Emma said. "You've got nothing we want. Don't worry, the cops will be along soon to rescue you, princess."

Without another word, Emma picked up the single bag which had been left and disappeared. Regina stared at the place where she had been for a few seconds before looking around. Where was Gold? What did 'diverting from the plan mean'? Was Gold ok? With her hands tied behind her back, there wasn't much she could do. Her eyes fell on her cell phone on the desk.

* * *

The hostages didn't move as Peter and Lily crossed the room, each now holding a sack of what they presumed, correctly, was money in one hand and their weapons in another. Through the frosted glass at the front of the bank, flashes of lights could be seen. The appearance of police cars had at first reassured them but when nothing happened, the fear returned.

The duo backed slowly out of the front of the bank, not daring to turn around in case any of the hostages made a move. But before they reached the corridor, Emma appeared behind them.

"We've fucked up," she muttered into both her colleagues' ears. "There are cops outside the side door. I heard them on the radio just before I opened it. They can't get in but we can't get out. I'm guessing F has already disappeared. We're fucked."

Beneath their masks, all three faces were white. Of course, they all knew robbing a bank wasn't going to be easy, there was always going to be risk. But the plan had been good. And Neal had convinced them it was going to work.

"L, stay here. P, come with me. I need you to help me move the manager."

"Move the manager?" Peter asked as he followed Emma, all three of them still gripping their bags of money. Lily advanced back into the room. The hostages shrank away in fear once more as the shooter returned.

"Yeah, Neal knocked him out. I don't know much about the law but I get the feeling killing a bank manager is worse than robbing a bank, right?"

"Right," Peter said through gritted teeth.

As they passed the open door to Mr Gold's office, Emma glanced inside. Her eyes locked with Regina's; wide and terrified. The brunette was standing up, her back to the desk. From the way she was standing, Emma could tell she was up to something with the hands tied behind her back. Peter walked on; unaware of what their hostage was doing. Emma's step faltered for a second, her mind racing. What should she do? What was right? What would happen to Regina if Peter got involved? After a split second longer, she continued down the corridor, keeping pace with the taller man.

Regina let out a trembling breath as her fingers fumbled over the home button on her iPhone. After a few seconds, when she was sure Emma and her friend weren't coming back, she pressed down to activate Siri.

* * *

A/N: Short but sweet?


	5. The Call

A/N: happy weekend!

* * *

Lieutenant Killian Rogers listened intently to the young detective who was updating him on what they knew so far. It wasn't much. But any piece of information, no matter how small, could be useful. Knowledge was power.

"And the shot was picked up on the alert ten minutes ago?" he asked, remembering the brief he had been given by his commander when he had been instructed to get himself and his team over to New York Gold Capital.

"Yes, Lieutenant," the detective nodded. "Three minutes past four."

"When were the first patrol officers on the scene?"

"About two minutes after that. They tried the doors; they're barricaded. Since the bank was open at the time, we assume they're holding staff and civilians hostage. The patrol officers called for you guys."

"And you've not tried to make contact yet?"

The detective shook her head. "We were told to wait for you."

"Any idea how many hostages we're looking at?"

Again, the woman shook her head. "No idea. Our techs are trying to hack into the bank surveillance system but it looks like it's been disabled internally."

Lieutenant Rogers frowned. That was impressive. He and the Hostage Negotiation Team had been on the scene of many bank robberies but few managed to combat the sophisticated security systems which banks invested in these days.

"Did you contact the local police department and find out if they've received a trigger from the bottom bills being pulled?"

The detective nodded. "Nothing, Lieutenant. We don't even know if this is a robbery. It may have been a shooting."

"In a bank? With the doors barricaded? No, this is to do with money." It was always to do with money. Innate human greed. "Get onto the tech team. Tell them we need to have eyes on the inside before we move. I'm not risking the lives of any civilian or my team by bursting in without knowing what we're up against. The building is surrounded, correct?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. We've got the side door covered too."

"And the security guard? I was informed he was found unconscious."

"On his way to hospital. He'll make it. Head wound. We're still not sure how he ended up in the alley nor if there are other guards on duty. It looks like he was trying to get in the side door and was attacked. We're trying to contact some of the bank workers to see if we can get more information but no luck so far. We're also getting CCTV footage from street cameras to see if we can identify the suspects."

"Good," Lieutenant Rogers nodded. "Keep me informed. My team and I will set up and see if we can get one of these guys on the phone. I want regular updates, ok? And see if you can find any witnesses."

He glanced at the large crowd which had formed behind the semi-circle of police cars now blocking the entire street. He could see uniformed officers trying to keep the public back, protect them from the unknown events which were about to unfold.

"Very good, Lieutenant," the detective said before turning to fulfil her orders.

Once she was gone, Lieutenant Rogers stepped back into the surveillance van where the rest of the Hostage Negotiation Team were preparing to make contact.

"Got the number?" he asked his sergeant.

"Yes, Lieu," she replied. "Reception desk in the main hall of the bank. Receptionist is called Tina. Been with them for three years."

"In work today?"

The sergeant shrugged. "No reason to suspect otherwise."

"Well, I doubt she's at her desk given the fact that these guys have been inside for over ten minutes. Let's try and make contact. If they don't answer the phone, we'll go old fashioned and try the megaphone. Make sure the uniforms know to keep the vultures away. I don't want anything leaking out to the media."

The press loved the drama of a bank robbery but their presence and the broadcasting of events was always a nightmare. The public didn't seem to recognise the seriousness of the situation, nor the desperate state the robbers were in by the time the police had arrived. They became unpredictable, dangerous, willing to do anything to save their own skins. And sometimes, when that happened, people got hurt.

"Ready?" one of his detectives asked him, gesturing to the audio equipment he had finished setting up.

"Connect it," he nodded, placing his hands on the desk and leaning forwards as the phone started to ring.

* * *

Lily's eyes flitted from the cluster of hostages to the front door. Through the frosted glass windows, she could see shadows moving. Police officers. Positioning themselves. Trying to understand the situation. The doors had rattled again soon after Peter and Emma left. She'd stayed stock still. Her instructions had been to keep guard. Nothing more. Nothing less.

They'd try to make contact soon, she knew. Hostage negotiation. That's what always happened in the TV shows anyway. Hours of back and forth conversations as the police and the bank robbers conceded ground until eventually, foolishly, the criminals emerged, believing they were going to be allowed to climb into a bullet proof vehicle and drive off unscathed. It never happened. They were always killed.

But Lily didn't care. What did she have to live for? Her eyes settled on the man she had shot earlier. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling sharply. He was still alive but that meant little. She was getting out of this bank in two ways: handcuffed and facing a life sentence or dead, with no life left to live.

The phone on the receptionist desk chimed for the second time. Lily turned to look at it. So did everyone else in the room. The ringing continued, echoing off the walls into the air, heavy with anticipation. After almost a minute, the caller gave up. There was a flurry of movement on the other side of the glass. Soon after that, a distant, electronically magnified voice drifted into the room.

"This is the police."

Lily rolled her eyes. Who else would it be?

"We just want to talk to you. Please pick up the phone."

The police take courses on negotiation and that's all they come up with? Lily thought to herself, eyes focused on the hostages who could not contain their relief at the confirmation that the police were indeed there. These people, who had just chosen the wrong day to go to the bank, or chosen the wrong bank to get a job with. But now, Lily knew, they had become bargaining chips. Chips that Neal would try to use to talk them out of their dire situation. There was no getting out, Lily knew that. But she also knew that Neal was going to try.

The phone rang again. Once more, Lily ignored it. The glimmer of hope the hostages had momentarily enjoyed, began to fade.

* * *

The tone sounded louder than usual in the silent room. Regina half expected Emma to reappear in the doorway. But she didn't. Letting out a shuddering breath, Regina turned around and lowered her face towards the device.

"Call Daddy."

There was a pause and then the screen indicated that the voice activated command had worked.

The photo of her father appeared as the call began. The phone wasn't on speaker so she lowered herself onto her knees, bringing her face as close as possible to where her father's voice would emanate.

But nothing happened and after thirty seconds, the call dropped. Her father hadn't picked up. He always answered in his daughter's calls unless he was in a meeting. Regina felt tears sting her eyes. Getting to her feet, she turned and pressed the home button, activating Siri again. This time, she made a decision based on logic, not emotion. The call she should have made the first time.

"Call 911."

This time, the connection rang for only a few seconds before a voice was heard on the other side.

"Hello, 911. What's your emergency?"

"My name is Regina Mills," she said quickly and quietly into the receiver. "I'm at New York Gold Capital on 55th and 6th and the bank is being robbed. I'm in the manager's office. There are at least 4 people involved. They have guns. A rifle, a pistol. I don't know what other weapons."

"Ok, Regina," the operator replied. "We have police on the scene already. Are you hurt?"

"No, no I'm not but I know one of the hostages was shot."

"How many hostages are there?"

"I don't know," Regina said. "I was in the manager's office when they came in. They've taken the manager, Mr Gold, somewhere. Please, can you help?"

"We're doing everything we can, Regina. But any information will be very helpful. Tell me everything you can. Who are the robbers? Can you describe them?"

"They're wearing masks," Regina said. "They left me in the office but I think they'll be back soon."

"If you hear them coming, stop talking but try to leave the line open. We're recording everything this end so we'll hear what's said. Now, the masks, can you describe them?"

"Black ski masks. Woollen."

"And these four people. Male? Female?"

"Two male, one female for sure," Regina replied. "I think the fourth may be female too. I don't know though."

"That's great. What are they wearing?"

"Black. Hoodies. Jackets. Black jeans. They're scruffy. And their clothes are dirty; they smell. I think they might be homeless."

"Ok, and can you tell me more about the bank. Where are you in relation to the front area?"

* * *

"Neal, what the fuck are you doing?" Emma asked as she and Peter reappeared in the room where the safe deposit boxes were installed. "The police are here. We can't get out."

"Back door," Neal said.

"Yeah, they're at the back door," Emma snapped.

"Felix?"

"Fuck knows," Emma shrugged, shooting Peter a sideways glance which half said 'where is your buddy?' But she knew it wasn't really Felix's fault. If he had been in the alley, he would have either already been caught by the police or he escaped. Whichever outcome, he was no help to them now.

"Shit," Neal said, still making his way through the keys.

"Yeah, shit," Emma said. "What's the plan?"

Without turning around, he asked; "Cops are outside?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "Loads of them."

"We have hostages," Neal said calmly. "They'll negotiate."

"And if the hostages die, we're fucked," Emma said. "Peter and I are gonna take Mr Gold back to his office. We don't need him kicking the bucket on us."

"He's fine," Neal said. "Just knocked out. You should check on that guy Lily shot if you really don't want a dead hostage. He took one to the thigh. May have hit the femoral artery."

"What?" Emma groaned. "Why the fuck didn't you say that?"

"Cos you're a doctor and could have fixed it? What's done is done." Neal's voice was cold, heartless. Emma had never heard him speak like that before.

She grimaced nonetheless. The man was probably right. "Well, I still don't want blood on my hands. Peter, grab him under the arms, I'll get his legs. Neal, for fuck sake stop playing around with keys and come and help us."

Neal ignored her. He just moved onto the next two keys on the ring and continued to try and open the safe deposit box.

* * *

"You said they took the bank manager somewhere," the woman said. "Do you know where?"

"No, but I'd guess the vault. Mr Gold has keys to everywhere in the bank," Regina said.

"And they left you alone in the office?"

"Yes," Regina replied. "My hands are tied behind my back."

"But you managed to make a phone call?"

"Siri," Regina replied.

"Impressive." It wasn't the first time the 911 operator had received a call in this manner but the intuitive gesture continued to be something she admired. Under stressful and dangerous decisions, few people were able to think rationally. Nor, it seemed did the criminals, the operator realised. "They left your phone in reach?"

"Yeah," Regina nodded. "But I guess they didn't think I'd be able to it."

"Well, they may have just made a mistake. I'm going to pass all of this information over to the hostage negotiation team. Now, can you hear anything? Or see anything?"

Regina strained her ears. All was silent. Too silent, in fact. Where was Emma?

"No," she said. "And I'm still in the office."

"Are there security cameras in the office?"

Regina glanced up at the ceiling but then remembered what had happened earlier. "They shut off the system. Mr Gold said so. One of them had a security access card."

"Ok," the operator said. "Now, Regina … hang on, Regina Mills? As in, Henry Mills' daughter?"

"Yes," Regina replied.

"Do they know who you are?"

"I don't think so," Regina replied. "I mean, the one who knows my name didn't blink."

"So you're not the target?"

"I don't think so," Regina said. "They didn't seem to want anything from me. One of them said I wasn't part of their plan."

"Did they tell you what their plan was?"

"No, just that they didn't expect me to be there. I think they just meant anyone though. They expected Mr Gold to be alone."

"Perhaps they're not from New York if they didn't recognise you. Did they have an accent?"

Regina thought. Did Emma have a distinctive accent? But before she could answer, she heard footsteps in the corridor.

"They're coming back," Regina whispered, struggling to her feet and backing away from the cell phone. She knew the operator would keep the line open, would be listening. But the screen was illuminated. As soon as one of her captors saw that, they'd know. Still, she backed away, knowing it was important for everyone else in the bank that the police had as much information as possible, no matter what would happen to her if they found out she'd called the police.

Emma's back appeared in the doorway just as Regina sat down. She was breathing heavily and carrying something. Regina let out a little squeak as she realised it was Mr Gold's lifeless body. Was he dead?

The duo heaved the man into the room and placed him unceremoniously in his grand desk chair. Blood was beginning to dry on his forehead, the smear of red grotesque against his pale skin.

Emma placed her fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse.

"Is he dead?" Regina asked, unable to stop herself.

"No," Emma replied, turning back and glancing at Regina and then towards Peter. Through the slit in his ski mask, she could see his eyes narrowing.

"Come on," Peter said. "We need to check on L."

Emma nodded and followed Peter from the room. As she walked, something on the desk caught her eye. She froze for a moment, eyes wide with fear. Then she grabbed the cell phone, ended the call and slipped the device into her pocket. Regina watched without doing or saying anything. There was nothing she could do or say without alerting her other captor to the fact that she had contacted the police. As Emma passed her, their eyes locked. Wordlessly, Regina understood. Emma wasn't going to tell those whom she was working for what the brunette had done. And there was something else in her eyes too. Was it a look of betrayal?

Once Emma was out of sight, Regina hung her head and let tears of despair fall into her lap. In his office chair, Mr Gold remained unconscious.

* * *

The front of the bank was silent when Peter and Emma reappeared. Lily was stood, legs planted hip width apart, gun held and ready to be fired at anyone who dared move.

"What's going on?" Emma asked as she came up beside her friend.

"The cops called. Then they used a mega phone. Then they called again."

"And you didn't answer?"

Lily shook her head. Well, at least she hadn't shot at the receiver, Emma mused. Leaving Lily and Peter side by side, she made her way over to the man who had been shot. Her stomach rolled at the sight. His pants glistened with blood, wet and seeping. The wound was open, raw flesh peeking through the material. A sizeable burgundy pool on the floor told Emma the man needed help and fast. She felt for a pulse. It was weak but there. She had gone on a first aid course once as part of her training for a part time job in a fast food restaurant. She didn't remember it well. And she knew the gunshot needed medical attention, not the Heimlich manoeuvre.

The phone rang again. Emma stood up and turned around. Lily didn't even flinch. Peter was staring at the receptionist desk.

"Answer it," she said.

Peter did so. While Neal was in charge and it had been his plan, Emma was definitely the man's number two. If Emma told him to do something, he did it.

"Hello."

All eyes in the bank were on Peter as he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hello. My name is Lieutenant Killian Rogers. I'm with the police. What's your name?"

Peter said nothing. He just held the phone towards Emma. He had no idea how to play this. Emma felt exactly the same. Negotiating with the police had never been discussed and she didn't know what Neal would want to do. But someone was going to have to do the talking. She made her way back over to the desk and took the phone.

"Hello."

There was a pause and then; "hello. My name is Lieutenant Killian Rogers. I'm with the police. What's your name?"

The fact that Emma had already told one of her hostages her name meant that keeping her identity a secret was all but moot. However, she still stuck to the original plan of how they were to refer to one another during the robbery.

"You can call me E."

"Hello E. How is everyone doing in there?"

The voice sounded Irish, soft and lilting. Almost reassuring in a strange way. And yet, it wasn't. Emma knew what the police were there to do. Their priority was to get the hostages out safely. They didn't care what happened to Emma or her friends.

"We're fine."

"That's good to hear, E. We had a report of a gunshot earlier. Has anyone been hurt?"

"Everyone's alive." It was true. For now, at least. Emma hoped it remained true. She never wanted anyone to get hurt. Victimless crime. Well, the bank would be down a few hundred thousand but that was nothing to them and it would change their lives forever.

"Ok," Killian said. "That's excellent, E. Thank you. And thank you for picking up the phone. It's great to talk to you. Now, perhaps we could talk about what you want?"

To be anywhere but here, Emma thought to herself. To not be in a bank surrounded by armed police guards with two injured hostages. To be in the park, enjoying the afternoon sunshine as she panhandled. To be sat by the lake in Central Park with Regina. Regina. Emma swallowed at the thought. She stuffed her free hand into her pocket and felt the phone. Regina had called the police. Regina had called the police on Emma. Regina knew Emma's name. She slammed the receiver back down on the cradle and turned to walk back down the corridor.

"E, where are you going?" Peter asked her, panicked.

"Wait here," Emma said. "Don't answer the phone."

* * *

Regina was starting to tremble, her body exhausted by the tension and fear. Her throat was hoarse. She needed a drink. Her eyes were burning. She wished she could wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks.

Was it a mistake? That phone call? The police had more information now. The police would be in a better position to help. But Emma knew. Emma knew that Regina had called the police. Of all the scenarios, Emma knowing was surely the best. The small man who had been with her, carrying Mr Gold didn't seem too aggressive but the taller man who took Mr Gold and, presumably, knocked him out, was dangerous. She could tell. And then the other team member, whoever that was, seemed to have no qualms about shooting hostages.

But she had betrayed Emma. While she hadn't told the operator Emma's name, Regina had been talking to the police. The police were outside, trying to get Regina out and not caring what happened to her captors. Regina shouldn't care what happened to her captors, the brunette reminded herself. Captors; she was a hostage. They were criminals. But there was something about Emma. Those green eyes. The way the woman had spoken. She hadn't wanted to cause anyone harm. And in calling the police, perhaps Regina had instead caused Emma harm. Did the girl deserve that? Did a girl so desperate that she tried to rob a bank deserve to be put in prison, or even shot dead?

But there were other questions which mattered more now. Would Emma tell her friends? Would she tell them what Regina had done? Would they kill Regina? Why hadn't Emma said anything when she spotted the phone? Was she protecting Regina? Or did she merely want to deal with the situation herself?

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. "Robert," she gasped as she saw the man's dark eyes flutter open, his body stretching and trying to move. "Are you ok?"

Mr Gold groaned and went to try and touch his head, remembering only when he did so that his arms were bound. Regina got to her feet and made her way around to the older man.

"What happened?" she asked, kneeling down in front of him and peering up into his face.

"I wouldn't give him the key," Mr Gold remembered. "Are you ok? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine. I mean, I'm not fine but they didn't hurt me. Why did you stand up to him? You should have just done what he asked."

Mr Gold closed his eyes again. His head was pounding where the barrel of the gun had struck him. "I couldn't," he said quietly. He had no regrets about not handing over the keys. He was confident the criminals wouldn't be able to find the combination. And the box would remain unopened. Its contents would be safe.

"The police are here," Regina said, trying to sound optimistic. "Apparently they're outside."

"Good," Mr Gold whispered. "Where are they? The others?"

"I don't know," Regina replied. "Two of them brought you back here and then disappeared. I haven't seen them since."

But even as she said that, Regina heard the stomping boots in the hallway which she had come to learn belonged to the one captor whose name she knew. Struggling to her feet, she was making her way around Mr Gold's desk and back to her seat when Emma appeared in the doorway.

"What did you tell them?" she asked, advancing into the room towards Regina.

"Nothing," Regina said, frozen in place.

"Bullshit," Emma said, now right in front of Regina, mere inches from her body. "You told them my name, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't, I swear."

Green eyes narrowed as she scanned the petrified features in front of her. And then they flickered over to Mr Gold who was watching the interaction with a frown on his face.

"You're awake," she observed.

"Yes," Mr Gold nodded. "And you're screwed."

Emma said nothing. The words were probably accurate. She snarled at the man instead, the gesture hidden by her ski mask and turned back to Regina.

"Sit down," she barked.

Regina did as she was told, sitting in the chair which Emma had previously occupied just a few feet from where she stood. Once the brunette was seated, Emma pulled young woman's the cell phone from her pocket and dropped it on the floor. A second later, her heel landed on the screen, cracking the glass. The phone illuminated, as if crying out in pain. She stomped again, denting it further until the device at last went black. Emma then went over to Regina's handbag and grabbed the second phone. That too met the same fate.

"What the fuck is going on here?" came a voice from the doorway.

Emma spun around, the remnants of two cell phones at her feet.

"Just making sure no one calls the cops," Emma bluffed. No matter how angry she was at the betrayal, she didn't dare tell Neal. She had no idea what his reaction would be. She had no idea what he might do to Regina.

"The cops are already here," Neal pointed out.

"I know. I spoke to them. They want to know what we want."

"We've got what we want," Neal said, holding up a small box in his hand.

At the sight, Emma frowned. Regina looked curiously at the item. Only Mr Gold had an outward reaction.

He gasped. "You opened it?"

Neal laughed at the look of sadness on the old man's face.

"Yeah, I opened it." He knew he had been lucky, finding the combination as fast as he did. But he deserved some luck in his life. Nothing else had gone right. And even if the rest of the bank robbery was going to end badly, at least he had opened the safety deposit box. At least he'd gotten what he came here for.

"You had no right," Mr Gold whispered. "Why couldn't you just leave with the money?"

Emma wanted to know the answer to that question too. She also wanted to know what was in the box now clutched in Neal's hand.

"Because I didn't come here for the money," Neal said, advancing into the room towards Mr Gold's desk. "I came," he continued, placing the box on the smooth wooden surface, "for this." He opened the lid.

Mr Gold's eyes saddened as he gazed upon the diamond ring before him. He hadn't seen it for seven years, not since he had stored it there. If it couldn't sit on the finger of his beloved, it couldn't be worn by anyone. He had hidden it; locked it away along with his feelings. Or at least he had tried to. His eyes glittered as he raised his face to look into the masked face before him.

"How did you know about this?" Mr Gold asked. "Who are you?"

Slowly, Neal raised one hand and peeled the mask off his face. There was a moment of silence as Mr Gold scanned the exposed features, a distant flicker of recognition in his eyes as his gaze rested on a face he knew so well, weathered by years on the street.

"Neal?"

"Yeah, it's me, Dad."

* * *

A/N: I don't think this should be too much of a surprise… but I hope it's a twist when it comes to Neal's motivation to plan the bank robbery.


	6. The Father

A/N: happy Wednesday peeps!

* * *

Living in New York meant Zelena had seen everything. Even if some of the scenes had been witnessed from the back of her family town car. Nothing fazed a New Yorker. She could tell, therefore, that the large crowd of people forming on 6th Avenue must be tourists. No New Yorker would bother to waste their time nosing into an unfortunate event unless it directly affected them. It wasn't selfish; it was just practical. There was always something to gawp at in the city. If you didn't ignore the spectacles, you'd never get anywhere.

"Mind your own business," Zelena grumbled to herself as she pushed her way through the clusters of people.

A few individuals protested as she made her way forwards but most just let the young woman through. Something about Zelena oozed wealth and power. It was probably her clothes combined with the way she carried herself. The redhead didn't stop until an arm shot out and blocked her path.

"Sorry, Miss, you can't come through here."

Zelena looked up into the face of a young police officer and frowned. "I'm just meeting my friend. I'm already late."

"Yeah, well, you're going to be later. This road is sealed off."

It was only at this point that Zelena peered past the man to see what the fuss was about. There were a dozen police cars. Far too many for a traffic collision. And, she noted, no one was moving.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Police matter, Miss. If you want to get further down 6th, you'll have to go back around and head down 5th. That's still open to pedestrians."

Zelena wasn't listening. She was too busy scanning the hoards of police officers who were stationed in the area. Her eyes landed on a grey truck. She recognised the letters from the TV. Scanning the sidewalks, she suddenly realised where every police officer was looking.

"HNT? Hostages? In New York Gold Capital?"

"Miss, please, this is a police matter. If you would like to turn back I can direct you to -"

"My friend is in there," Zelena suddenly cried. "She's inside Gold Capital. Regina Mills."

"Mills? As in Henry Mills' daughter?"

"Yes," Zelena said, her heart now pounding. "I was supposed to meet her in the bank ten minutes ago. Is she in there? Is she in the bank? What's happening?"

"You're sure she's in there?"

Zelena nodded furiously. The officer bit his lip, hesitating. Then he lifted his arm and guided Zelena over to his superior. After explaining who the redhead teen was and relaying the information about Regina, Zelena found herself shepherded over to the HNT van. The walk was silent; clusters of police officers watching her but doing nothing. Most of them, she noticed, had their weapons drawn.

"Lieutenant Rogers, this woman, Zelena West, may have some information for us," the police officer said as they climbed inside.

"A civilian? Witness?" Killian Rogers asked as he scanned the young lady before him.

"No but her friend is inside."

"Are you in contact with your friend?"

"No," Zelena said. "She didn't answer my last two texts. Please, what's happening? Is she ok? Has something happened? Are people hurt?"

"We're trying to get everyone out safely, Miss," Killian said before leaning over to the officer and muttering; "what use is she to us?"

"Her friend, Lieutenant, is Regina Mills."

There was a pause, Killian's eyes flickering from the officer to Zelena and back again. "Does Mr Mills know?"

"I don't know," the officer said. "But I thought you ought to know she's inside."

"We already do know," Killian replied. "Miss Mills managed to call 911. She was cut off a few minutes ago. The Commissioner is on his way down here."

Zelena was still stood by the door, taking in the van's interior. "Um, what's going on? Is Regina ok?"

"We're going to do our very best to make sure that she is," Killian said, beckoning the woman further in and gesturing for her to take a seat. "Now, when was the last time you spoke to Miss Mills and what was she going to do at the bank?"

* * *

There was a heavy silence. Mr Gold stared up into the face of his son; the boy who had walked out of their family home seven years ago transformed into the man before his eyes. Emma, Peter and Regina was silent too, jaws dropped.

"Neal," Emma hissed at last, unable to hold back the question any longer. "You have a father?"

"Technically," the man said, his voice scathing. "But he might as well be dead for all I care. Hell, by the end of today he probably will be."

At the heartless words, Regina felt a chill flow through her veins. She couldn't imagine ever wanting her father dead. She would be distraught to hear he had even been hurt, let alone killed by her own hand. A sadness washed over her at the visible breakdown of the relationship between father and son. Emma, however, seemed angry.

"You told me you had no family. You told me your family was dead." It was an accusation. Indignant.

"They're dead to me," Neal replied.

"It's not the same," Emma growled. "You lied to me. You told me you were like me. You told me you were an orphan and all this time you've had a fucking rich family right here in New York? What the hell, Neal?"

"Hey," the man said, turning around to face Emma at last. "I didn't lie to you."

"You told me your parents were dead," Emma said, arms folded. "That was a lie, clearly." She gestured at the man now sat behind Neal. "Were you just trying to align yourself with me or something? Make me think you understood me? Trick me into believing that you and I are the same?"

"Emma, we are," Neal said, taking a step towards the blonde but she shook her head, unfolding her arms and displaying the gun she still held. The man stopped.

"No, we're not," Emma said. "You could have had a loving family all these years. You could have had a home, gone to college, been anything you wanted. Not like me. I never had a home, a family, a future." Tears were sparkling in green eyes now. Regina was transfixed by the sliver of emotion she could see on the still masked face.

Neal shifted from one foot to the other, almost as if he was embarrassed. "Having a family isn't all it's cracked up to be, Emma."

"Yeah, your dad really looks evil. Neal, your family is rich. I bet he was generous to you when you were a kid. he's a fucking bank manager! You robbed your dad's bank."

"Yes, I did," Neal said, a sneer on his face as he turned around, eyes locked with his father's once more. "The bastard deserves a lot more after what he put me through. After what he put my mom through." His eyes dropped to the ring which was still glittering up from box on the desk. It was just as he had remembered when he had found it that day. Over the top. Pretentious. Almost gaudy in its size. But that wasn't why Neal despised the rock.

"Milah?"

At the whispered word, Neal spun around, gaze seeking the source of the quiet voice. Emma and Peter's eyeline gave it away. Regina seemed to shrink slightly in her chair as Neal glared at her.

"How do you know my mom's name?"

"I … um, I'm a friend of the family," Regina managed to stutter.

Neal took a step towards the brunette. Emma's hands balled into fists subconsciously. Regina stayed stock still. Neal stepped closer, walking right up to the chair and placing a hand on either arm, leaning down and regarding Regina's face closely. It took a few seconds, his eyes scanning the features and trying to place them.

"Regina Mills," he murmured at last. "Fuck you've grown up."

"I could say the same about you, Neal," Regina said, sounding braver than she felt. "It's been a while since I saw you."

The man leered at her, eyes once again sliding over her body. A shudder of fear rippled through Regina. The look in his eyes was predatory. She had been eleven when she had last seen Neal, himself only a few years older than her. Their families occasionally socialised and Regina vaguely recalled her mother telling her that Neal Gold had run away. Never in a million years did she think they'd meet again under such circumstances. Neal's gaze was still on her; lecherous. He licked his lips.

"Neal," Emma said quietly, wanting to distract her friend before something happened she couldn't prevent. "The cops called. They want to talk to us. Negotiate, you know?"

"Oh, we can negotiate. We've been dealt pocket fucking aces."

Emma didn't play poker but she could tell Neal was pleased. Something about Regina had made him not only happy but optimistic. Neither of those emotions were being felt by Emma at that time. She felt betrayed, angry, lied to and, perhaps most of all, scared. Her friend hadn't let her in on the reason behind his plan. What else had he been keeping from Emma? And how the fuck was he going to get them out of their current predicament?

Doubting any word from the man would be the truth, she nevertheless asked; "what are you going to do?"

"Stay here with them. Don't let her out of your sight," he said, pointing to Regina.

"And your dad?" It felt strange to refer to the frail older man as Neal's father. They didn't even look alike, Emma mused.

Neal strolled over to his father and bent down so they were almost nose to nose.

"I got what I came here for. He knows I've won. He knows what he did and how he fucked up my life. He's not going anywhere but let's keep him around just in case."

Before Emma could say a word, Neal pulled back his arm and swung it forwards, striking Mr Gold in the temple with the but of his gun, knocking him out again. Regina let out a whimper at the sound of flesh struck with metal.

"P, with me," Neal said as he strolled back around the desk, rifle slung over his shoulder, leaving Regina and Emma alone with an unconscious Mr Gold.

Both women were silent as they heard the footsteps retreating down the corridor. Emma wiped her eyes through the gaps in her ski mask, the tears already drying on her cheeks.

"Are you ok?"

The softness of the tone, the genuine concern almost shocked Emma more than anything else which had unfolded over the past few minutes. Slowly, she raised her face to look at Regina.

"Yeah," Emma nodded after a moment. "I'm good."

"He didn't tell you about his family?" Regina knew the answer; she had heard the revelation. But she still asked. She wanted to keep Emma talking.

"No, he didn't. He lied about his family. He has a fucking family to lie about." There was bitterness mixed with sadness in her words.

"And you don't."

Emma sank into the vacant chair, glancing at Mr Gold and seeing that the man was most definitely unconscious. It was just her and Regina. Alone. Waiting.

"No, I don't."

There was another pause. Regina didn't know what to say. She had never met an orphan before. While her parents' love could sometimes be a little overbearing, she couldn't imagine growing up without it, without them.

"I'm sorry," she offered at last.

"Yeah, me too."

Neither woman knew whether Emma was referring to her childhood or the events which had so far taken place in the bank that afternoon. Both, perhaps.

* * *

After extracting as much information from Zelena as he could, Lieutenant Rogers instructed the uniformed officer to escort the woman to a secondary command van. He didn't need a civilian teenager watching him when he tried to reach the bank robbers again. Regina Mills' presence in the bank hadn't changed his job. He still needed to get all the hostages out alive. But it meant the eyes of everyone in the city were about to swivel in his direction. The strange thing was, according to the 911 operator, the hostage takers appeared not to have targeted one of New York's richest heiresses. Her involvement appeared to be complete chance. And if her identity remained unknown, he hoped she and everyone else would be safe.

He bent over the desk once more, the call ringing through the tense quiet of the small van. He was about to hang up after almost a minute when the call connected. There was silence.

"Hello, is that E?"

"No, it's N," came the new voice. "Who are you?"

"Hello N," Killian said as one of his team added the letter 'N' to the whiteboard they were using to gather information. "My name is Lieutenant Killian Rogers. I'm with the Hostage Negotiation Team. How is everyone doing in there?"

"Oh, you know," replied a teasing drawl.

"Actually, I don't know, N. Would you be able to tell me if everyone's alright?"

"Everyone? Or just one person in particular?"

Killian glanced up at his senior detective. That wasn't good. "Everyone please, N. How are the hostages?"

"Most of them are fine, I suppose," the voice said. Whomever was on the other end of the call, he seemed to be enjoying the teasing.

"Most of them, N?" Killian asked. "Does that mean someone has been hurt?"

"We've had a couple of issues with obedience, let's just say that," the man offered.

"Right, well, if people are hurt, we're really going to need to get them some medical attention. How would you feel, N, if some paramedics were to come and collect any injured hostages? Get them to a hospital?"

"Nah, they're not badly hurt. They'll live," Neal said. "Anyway, it's not them you want, is it?"

"We're not here to talk about what I want, N. What do you want?"

There was a bark of laughter. "Of course it's about what you want. Or, more importantly, what the Commissioner wants. Is he there yet?"

Killian glanced at his colleague. What did this man know? How did this man know that, at that very moment, the Police Commissioner was indeed speeding towards the bank?

"He's on his way," Killian confirmed at last. Lying to hostage takers never went well. "But while we wait for him, how about you tell me how many civilians are in there with you?"

"Um," Neal scanned the group in front of him, "sixteen. Plus, our two VIPs. I don't think we could stoop so low as to call the lovely Miss Regina Mills a civilian, can we? She's damn near New York royalty."

"And who's the other VIP?" Killian asked, his blood running cold as he received confirmation that the man had identified one of his hostages as the daughter of Henry Mills, a close friend of the Police Commissioner.

"Oh, just some cheating sack of shit bank manager," the voice said, with more emotion than anything else he had verbalised so far.

But before Killian could ask another question, the line went dead.

"Find out everything you can about the manager of this bank. Get his family here. Get me every piece of information about him. Now."

* * *

A/N: again, I'm sorry it's short. Next week I have three days off work so I promise to write extra long chapters and maybe even squeeze in a bonus one for you!


	7. The Interruption

A/N: Happy Sunday! I know I mentioned a possible bonus chapter but I've been working on another project (not SwanQueen, I'm afraid), so I'll only be delivering usual Sunday – Wednesday chapters.

* * *

The crowd parted at the sight and sound of yet another police car arriving at the scene. As soon as the vehicle had stopped, the back door opened and a tall Hispanic man in a dark suit stepped out, hurrying directly towards the HNT truck.

"What do you know so far?" he asked as he walked inside, straight to the point as always.

"Police Commissioner Glass" Killian said, looking up at the new presence inside his small command centre. "Um, not much, to be honest. We've spoken to two of the hostage takers on the phone, 'E' and 'N', but when Miss Mills called 911, she thought there were at least four people involved."

"Casualties?" Sidney Glass asked.

Killian nodded. "We know more than one person has been injured. We don't believe them to be dead and 'N' has told us that the injuries are not life threatening. I know we can't trust these people but he didn't seem to be lying."

"Is Regina hurt?"

"We don't know," Killian admitted. "She was fine when she called 911 but that connection was terminated and we don't know whether the hostage takers discovered that she had made the call in the first place or whether Regina herself ended the call. Of course, one scenario is better than the other."

"Do you have eyes inside the bank?"

Killian shook his head. "They managed to disable the security system once they got inside. We believe they took the security keycard from a guard we found unconscious in the alleyway. We're working to get the cameras back up but at the moment we're blind. I have floor plans of the bank but we don't know for sure where everyone is. Miss Mills told the 911 operator that she was in the manager's office."

"Robert Gold, I know him," the Police Commissioner nodded. He too banked at New York Gold Capital. "Is he hurt?"

"We don't know," Killian said, wishing he could give better answers to his superior.

Sidney was about to speak when his cell rang. Excusing himself, he stepped away to answer it, leaving Killian glancing sideways at his detective before returning to the floor maps he had been studying in an attempt to formulate a plan to breach the building.

* * *

The silence stretched on for several minutes. Both women were wrapped in their own thoughts, their own worlds, their own worries. Regina had been in an ongoing state of terror ever since Emma's masked face had appeared in the doorway of Mr Gold's office. That terror had heightened, she realised, when Neal had arrived, and lessened slightly when he left. Regina knew she should be scared of Emma. She was scared of Emma. And yet, there was something else; something other than fear, which she also felt.

Regardless of the young woman's intentions and the undeniable plan which the blonde had been carrying out when she arrived, Regina felt, strangely, safe. She wasn't safe; logically she knew that. She was in danger. There were at least four masked people holding her hostage, all of whom had weapons and one of whom fired their weapon. But regardless of that, Regina believed that whatever harm may befall her, Emma wouldn't be the one to inflict it.

Emma was lost in her own thoughts too. The fact that she was in the middle of robbing a bank and trapped in a building surrounded by police officers paled in significance compared to the revelation she had just experienced. She was trying to remember back over the time she had known Neal. What had he said about his family? What had he told her? Had there ever been a hint towards his family not only being alive but being in New York?

No. Neal had told her his family were dead. He had told her he was an orphan. He had said 'I'm like you', 'I understand you', 'I get you'. But he didn't. He had a family. He had walked away from his family. Emma was willing to accept that perhaps Neal didn't like his family and wanted to leave but to dismiss their existence? What could they possibly have done to warrant that?

Maybe Emma couldn't understand. Maybe the foster child who would give anything in the world to have a family couldn't understand what could possibly justify leaving one. But from where she stood, Neal had given up the only thing that Emma had ever wanted. She could never understand that. And his family had been rich. Emma knew money wasn't everything but to walk away from a life of evident luxury to live on the streets; why? And if Neal's family socialised with Regina's they must have been part of the upper echelons of society. Not just rich but crazy wealthy.

"So, you and Neal knew each other growing up?" Emma asked, breaking the silence.

Brown eyes lifted from her lap to look at her captor. "Yes, our families are friends."

"Rich friends, right?"

Regina didn't answer. It was obvious, wasn't it? Regardless of the fact that compared to Emma, everyone was rich, everything about Regina exuded wealth. The two phones in her beautiful handbag, the high quality silk top, her stylish hair, the diamond watch which glittered on her wrist, the mere circumstances which led to her at the age of eighteen having a meeting with her bank manager. Regina silently hoped that Emma wouldn't ask her why she was in the bank. For some reason, the answer made her feel embarrassed.

"What happened?" Emma asked next. "Why did he run away?"

"I think you should ask Neal that," Regina said, calmly. "It's not my story to tell."

"But you know what happened?"

Regina gave a slow nod of her head. "I know the basics. I was only eleven when it happened. It wasn't appropriate for my parents to tell me all the details."

"And?"

"As I said, it's not my story to tell."

Emma narrowed her eyes slightly. "You do know I'm holding a gun, right?"

"I do," Regina said, gaze flitting to the weapon referenced by the young woman, "but I think if you were going to use that on me, it would have been when you found that I had made a call to 911, not because I wouldn't tell you a piece of gossip from years ago."

The brazen admittance shocked Emma. It was such a bold statement; daring in its directness. Emma had known, of course, that Regina had made the call but she hadn't expected the brunette to admit it.

"What did you tell them?" she asked quietly, afraid of the answers this question may expose.

"What I knew," Regina replied. "The police were already outside. They knew what was happening."

"Did you …. did you tell them my name?" Emma said eventually.

"No." It was quiet, almost whispered. An admittance; that Regina had had the chance to tell the police one of her captor's name and had chosen not to.

"Why not?"

Brown eyes locked with green, the only part of Emma's face visible through the mask which was still in place. "I don't know," she said at last.

Was the omission driven by a desire to protect the blonde? Or was it because she didn't want to betray Emma? Both women were wondering the same thing.

* * *

The crowd parted grudgingly for the Rolls Royce which nudged its way down 6th Avenue. Without the flashing lights, even the expensive vehicle held limited sway with curious bystanders. The driver honked the horn, inching forwards until at last he pulled up behind the sea of police vehicles. Hopping out, the young driver hadn't even made it to the passenger door when it was opening and Henry Mills was climbing out unaided.

"Where are you?" he was asking into the cell phone pressed against his ear. He looked around, scanning the scene. "Oh yeah, I can see you now."

Hanging up the phone, he weaved his way through the parked cars towards his friend who was hovering outside a grey truck.

"Henry," the Police Commissioner said as his friend approached. "How are you?"

It was a stupid question. Henry ignored it. "What's going on, Sidney?"

"It's unclear right now but we do know Regina is inside. We believe she's unhurt. The hostage takers seem to be planning to use her as leverage."

"They want money?" Henry asked, following his friend back inside the HNT truck. "I'll give them money. I'll give them anything, everything. Just, don't let them hurt my princess."

"We're not going to let them, Henry," Sidney assured his friend. "But money isn't what these guys need. They're going to want to walk away; free. They'll want to be allowed to leave without repercussions. We suspect they'll demand resources to allow that to happen. Cars, tickets out of the country, things like that. They may also take a hostage, probably Regina, with them to maintain control."

Henry felt his knees tremble and before he knew it he was being guided into a chair and handed a glass of water.

"Don't let them take her," he said hoarsely once he had drunk something. "Please, Sidney, please do whatever you need to do to bring her back."

Sidney nodded solemnly. "You have my word. Would you like to wait in here with the Lieutenant of the Hostage Negotiation Team or would you rather be elsewhere?"

This was not a question usually asked of the parents of hostages. But Henry Mills wasn't usual. He glanced up and took in, for the first time, the presence of a small team of police officers. At the acknowledgement, Lieutenant Rogers stepped forwards.

"Sir," he said. "Let me just say that we are doing everything we can to make sure your daughter and all of the hostages inside are kept safe."

"Just … just bring her to me," Henry said, his lined face pale and desperate.

"We'll do our very best, Sir," Killian said before turning towards his team.

Henry, meanwhile, turned back to his friend. "Cora. Is she here?"

"Not yet," Sidney said. "I called and she's on her way. Miss West is here, however."

"Zelena?" Henry knew all of his daughter's close friends and had a particular soft spot for the vivacious redhead.

"Yes," Sidney nodded. "She was coming here to meet Regina and when she realised what was going on, she alerted a police officer. We already knew, thanks to your daughter's ingenious 911 call, however."

"She is a genius. She's my little princess. I … I can't lose her, Sidney, I can't."

The man patted Henry's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Not being a father himself, he couldn't even begin to understand the emotions thrumming through the man in that moment. But he had known Regina all her life too; he cared for the young woman. He too would be devastated if something happened to her. And he was determined that his police officers were not going to be the cause of such an event.

"I'm going to assist Lieutenant Rogers. If you need anything, just let me know," Sidney said with a final squeeze of Henry Mills' trembling shoulder before stepping away and joining the hushed conversation.

* * *

"So, Neal didn't tell you it was his father's bank he wanted to rob?"

Emma looked up at the question. "No, he left that detail out when we were working on the plan."

It was already a sore point. She thought she and Neal were in this together. Their plan was simple in its parts and goals. Get in, get money, get out. And now she knew that he was being driven by a different cause. Was he always planning to confront his father and, if that was the case, did he expect their escape plan to be foiled by the police presence? Did he always know they were going to end up in the hostage situation they now found themselves in?

Regina's words, once again, interrupted her thoughts. "Would knowing have changed your mind?"

"About what?"

"About taking part in this?" Regina asked. "I mean, did you really think it would work? Even without Neal's ulterior motive, did you see yourselves strolling out of here laden with cash? Bank robberies are never successful."

"Yeah, well, when you get desperate enough, I guess you'll do pretty much anything for a better life."

The words were dark. Regina's mind flitted unwillingly to another sort of 'anything'. Had Emma done that? In order to survive on the streets, had Emma sold her body? A pang of pain shot through her heart at the thought.

"I can't imagine," she said murmured.

"Of course you can't," Emma snapped. "Of course you can't imagine what it's like to be poor, to be hungry, to be so fucking cold at night that you can't sleep but also knowing that if you do manage to get to sleep, you may never wake up."

Regina broke the intense gaze which they shared for a moment. "No, I can't imagine that."

It wasn't an excuse on Emma's behalf. She knew what she was doing was wrong. She knew she was breaking the law. She knew she was partly responsible for what was to become one of the worst days of the hostages' lives. But her life had dropped to such a low that she was willing to do anything, try anything, risk everything to make it better.

Except there was nothing to risk. She had nothing. Aside the clothes on her back and a few old, foul-smelling blankets bundled up in the park, Emma Swan had and owned nothing. If she went to jail, so what? At least she's be warm. If she got a criminal record, so what? She hadn't finished high school and it wasn't like she could get a job anyway. If she died, so what? It wasn't like there was anyone in this world who would miss her.

She could feel those intense coffee coloured eyes on her. Lifting her face, she once again saw those stunning orbs burning into her face. She swallowed.

* * *

"Mr Mills, we're going to try and make contact again," Lieutenant Roger informed the old man who was sat, wringing his hands. "Would you like to be here?"

"Yes," Henry nodded.

"Ok," Lieutenant Rogers. "You can listen in but please don't say anything. If the hostage taker knows who Regina is, he'll know you and if they find out you're here, they may use that to their advantage."

Henry nodded his understanding and got to his feet, moving to stand beside Sidney who was leaning over the telephone which was about to be connected. The ringing sound filled the small truck, each moment which passed without the call being picked up feeling like an eternity.

"Hello."

"Hi N, it's Lieutenant Rogers. How is everyone doing in there?"

"Oh we're doing just dandy, Jolly Rogers," Neal's voice joked. "How are you all doing?"

"We're a little concerned, to be honest. How are the hostages who have been injured?"

There was a whisper on the other end of the phone call and a rustling sound before the answer came through. "Don't worry, they're still alive."

"Ok, that's good. Have you thought any more about allowing two of our paramedics in, so we can get them some medical treatment?"

"No, I don't think so," Neal replied. "I know what I do want though."

"Ok, N, what do you want?"

"A car. Black. Escalade or something. I've always liked those. Tinted windows. Full tank of gas. Outside in the alley pointing East. Keys in the ignition."

"A car," Killian repeated, glancing at his superior and Henry Mills. "We can do that, N, but we're going to need a show of good faith from you."

There was a deep chuckle. "How about I agree not to kill anyone and you get me my fucking car? Is that a good enough show of faith for you, Jolly Rogers?"

Killian took a breath before answering. "It's a good start but I'm going to need something more." Bartering with hostage takers was always dangerous but it was also necessary.

"Is my daughter ok?" Henry blurted out, hands splayed on the table.

Killian and Sidney both groaned internally. There was a pause on the other end of the call.

"My, my, Henry Mills."

"Yes," Henry said, ignoring the silent protests from the police for him to be quiet. "Is Regina ok?"

"She's fine," came a drawl laced with an unmistakable smirk.

"Prove it. I want to speak to her," Henry all but shouted.

* * *

"So, you're famous or something?"

"Through wealth, not talent, but yes I suppose I'm famous," Regina said with a slight smile. "My father is certainly well known. And by extension, most people in the city know who I am."

"Except me," Emma said, a genuine smile on her lips for the first time since she had entered the bank.

"You're not from New York though, are you?"

"No," Emma said. "How could you tell?"

"Your accent," Regina replied. "I know you're not from the East Coast but I'm struggling to place you."

"That's because I moved around a lot as a kid. Foster system seemed incapable of finding me a family who wanted to stay in one place and I kept moving with these families who then kicked me to the curb a few months later."

"And you found yourself in New York?"

"Nah, I got myself here. The last group home I was in was in Tallahassee and when I ran away, I knew I didn't want to be in Florida. New York seemed, I dunno, like it held more possibilities. Concrete jungles where dreams are made of, right?"

"Alicia Keys also sang 'this girl is on fire' and that was supposed to be a positive song about a powerful, sexy woman, not a victim of some sort of horrific assault so perhaps don't take her lyrics too literally."

Despite herself, despite everything, Emma started to laugh. It wasn't accurate to say that she had headed to New York inspired by pop song lyrics but the notion tickled her. Regina chuckled too, her eyes shining with what appeared to be delight at the reaction she had elicited.

"What the fuck is going on in here?"

They sobered at once, casting a glance in one another's direction before looking towards the doorway from which the voice had emanated.

"Nothing," Emma said, schooling her features into a stony glare even though they were hidden behind the mask.

"Charming your captor, hey Regina?" Neal leered. "My my, your mother trained you well for the life of a socialite."

Regina narrowed her eyes. While it was true that she had spent her life attending fancy parties and dinners, she loathed the assumption that her wealth negated her own talents. Sure, she could happily sit back and live the life of a socialite but she didn't want that. She was going to Yale University; not because of her family's connection but because of her own academic achievements.

"What do you want, Neal?" Regina asked, sounding braver than she felt.

"You, actually," Neal said. "Your dad's on the phone. Apparently they want 'proof'," he used air quotations, "that you're still alive."

"Daddy's here?"

Neal snorted. "Yes, princess, Daddy's here."

Regina bristled at the nickname. She wasn't sure if Neal was aware of the affectionate term that only her father used for her or if it was coincidence.

"What do you want from her?" Emma piped up.

Stony-faced, Neal turned to face his friend. "Just her voice, sweetheart. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt her. I can see you've got a hard-on for our dear Regina. She's hot, right? Bet she's filthy in bed too. Rich bitches are always dynamite between the sheets."

Not for the first time since she had entered the bank, Emma was grateful for the mask now hiding her flushed cheeks. The reddened skin was a mixture of embarrassment and anger at the words Neal had leered at her. Regina, however, had no such barrier and a glance towards the brunette showed Emma the faintest of flush on her face.

"Come on," Neal said, walking towards Regina.

"No," Emma cried out, jumping to her feet and crossing to their hostage before Neal could reach her. "I'll take her."

The man looked like he was about to ignore Emma and seize Regina himself but after a moment, he shrugged and turned to leave the room. "Fine, come on," he said over his shoulder.

Regina's heartbeat had increased significantly when Neal had advanced towards her. And, she noted, it didn't slow as Emma reached down and wrapped her hand around her left bicep, pulling her to her feet. Damp heat radiated from the blonde's clammy palm, gripping firmly. Regina wasn't the only one who was nervous.

"Come on," she said.

"Please don't let him hurt me," Regina whispered as they began to move, her arms still pinned behind her back and aching more than ever.

Emma didn't say anything as she guided Regina out of the room.

* * *

A/N: See you all on Wednesday!


	8. The Attack

A/N: Happy Wednesday! Sorry this is relatively short. In addition to creating this, I've written 31,000 words since Monday – not SwanQueen, sorry! I'm now off to have new fingertips grafted.

* * *

Emma said nothing as she walked beside Regina down the corridor, the two women following Neal who was swinging his rifle from one hand and whistling casually. He was relaxed. Too relaxed, Emma decided.

She was also unsure what to expect when she returned to the front of the bank. It has been almost an hour since she had left the room, mere minutes after the robbery began. Since then, she knew her friend had shot a hostage. What else had happened? Was the hostage still alive?

Regina was also curious. Terrified, of course, but curious. She had been in Mr Gold's office since the traumatic ordeal began and wanted to know how many other people were being held hostage. She knew she wasn't the only person but who else was there? And in what condition would she find them? She also didn't know how many more people were working for Neal. She had decided that, in her mind, Emma was working _for_ Neal, not _with_ him.

Peter and Lily turned as Neal, Emma and Regina appeared in the doorway. Neal walked straight over to the receptionist's desk where the phone lay beside the receiver, the line clearly open. Not daring to disobey what she knew Neal wanted, Emma led Regina in the same direction. As they walked, both women took in the scene before them.

The hostages were all gathered together, a few metres away from the desk. Separate from the group, a man lay unconscious on the floor, a pool of coagulating blood beneath his leg. From a quick headcount, Regina noted that there were sixteen other people bound up just like her. They, however, seemed to have been restrained with zip-ties just like Mr Gold. Her own, Emma-made bounds, felt momentarily softer against her aching wrists.

Lily was stood near the front door, her gun held and ready to be used. Regina deduced, correctly, that this was the person who had already fired one round. She could tell that the girl was a loose cannon and, she mused, a terrible choice of person to join a team for a bank robbery. She vaguely remembered Neal being angry at Emma for bringing her onto the team. Were the two girls … involved? Peter was loitering by the desk, looking nervous even with his mask covering his features.

All eyes followed the two new arrivals. The receptionist, Tina, leaned over and whispered something to the civilian hostage sat next to her. It was clear that the bank tellers and most of the hostages recognised Regina. What was unclear, however, was whether the presence of a billionaire's daughter was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Pick it up," Neal said when Regina reached the desk.

Regina cocked her head to one side. "How?"

Neal looked like he was about to retaliate in anger but then he laughed. "Oh yeah," he chuckled, remembering that Regina's arms were tied behind her back. "Well, we should probably put this on speaker anyway. I don't want you telling Daddy any secrets, do I?" Leaning over, Neal pressed the speaker button. "Hey there, Henry. I've got someone who wants to speak to you."

"Regina?"

"Daddy," Regina gasped, her eyes sparkling with tears at the sound of her father's voice. She didn't care if it exposed her weakness; hearing her father's voice offered a moment of comfort.

"Yes, yes, it's me Princess. Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

Regina glanced up at Neal before answering. "I'm fine."

"They haven't hurt you?"

This time, Regina looked at Emma who was still stood beside her. "No, they haven't hurt me. Daddy, please just do whatever they ask."

"I will, princess, I promise. I love you. Your mother is on her way here too. We're going to be waiting for you when you come out."

Before Regina could say anything more, a new voice joined the conversation. "Miss Mills, I'm Lieutenant Rogers with the NYPD Hostage Negotiation Team. How is everyone in there?"

"Well," Regina began, "you're on speaker, Lieutenant Rogers."

"Of course, we wouldn't want anything you say to not be heard by N as well. I understand."

"N?"

"N," Neal said, jabbing his thumb into his chest.

"Oh, right, yeah, N is here. He's listening," Regina said slowly, wondering in that moment if her father knew that the man who had taken her hostage used to come to their family dinner parties.

Lieutenant Rogers continued, carefully considering his questions so that Regina could tell him useful information without angering her captors. "So, I'm glad to hear that you're alright. How about Mr Gold? We heard he was injured."

Regina glanced up at Neal who nodded, a leering grin on his face. "Mr Gold is ok, I think," Regina replied. "He's unconscious."

"Ok and we also heard a gunshot earlier. Are you able to tell me anything about that?"

Once more, Regina looked to Neal for permission and, once more, received it. "A man has been shot. I didn't see it happen."

"Is he still alive?"

"I don't know," Regina admitted. "He's unconscious too. He's bleeding from his leg."

"Ok, that's great, Regina, thank you," Lieutenant Rogers said. "Is N still there?"

"Yes, Neal's here."

There was a heavy silence. Darkness clouded Neal's features as he registered what Regina had said. Emma's fingers, which still held the brunette's arms, stiffened slightly. The brunette herself looked stoically into the angry face of her captor, as if defying her to take back the piece of information she had let slip.

"Oh, smart move, Regina," Neal drawled, taking a step towards the teenage women. "You are a feisty one, aren't you?"

"Neal," came Lieutenant Rogers' voice from the telephone. "Would you like to talk about some further demands now we've spoken to Regina?"

The man ignored the police request and continued to advance. "So fucking clever to tell the cops my name, right? Well, it's not going to matter, you stuck up rich bitch."

"Neal, now we know that Regina and the rest of the hostages are all alive, we're making arrangements for your car as you requested," Lieutenant Rogers said, his voice now displaying the slightest trace of urgency.

"Don't worry, princess," Neal said, now less than two foot away from Regina. Emma, instinctively, moved a little closer to the woman. "Daddy's going to save you in the end but you didn't have to help the police out. That's no fun, is it?"

"You're screwed, Neal," Regina said, sounding bolder than she felt. Perhaps it was something to do with Emma's hand on her bicep which gave her courage. "Let us go before anyone else gets hurt. You messed up. You're trapped. I can get you out of this if you let me go."

"Because of your rich fucking father?" Neal bellowed in her face.

"Neal," came Lieutenant Rogers' warning tones, "let's all calm down, ok? Talk to me about what you want. We've got your car. What else do you need?"

"I need," Neal screamed, lifting his rifle high in the air, "for everyone to stop telling me what to do!"

Before Emma could react, Neal swung his gun down, the butt colliding with the side of Regina's face. She fell to the floor, crying out in pain. Emma dropped to her knees beside her instinctively. If Neal noticed, he didn't care. He was already striding back towards the receptionist's desk and slamming the phone, from which panicked questions and pleads were emanating, back onto the cradle.

* * *

There was a cacophony of noise in the HNT truck as Killian, Henry and Sidney overheard the altercation between N, whom they now knew was called Neal, and Regina. All three men shouted their questions and pleads for the man to stop as they heard him screaming at Regina. Then there was a shriek from the other side of the line and a few seconds later the call went dead.

"What the fuck was that?" Sidney asked, spinning around and glaring at Killian. "You completely lost control of the conversation."

Killian folded his arms. "To be fair, Chief, I wasn't the one who suggested having the hostage's father take part in the call."

"You were the one speaking to him when he lost his shit," the superior officer pointed out.

"Because Regina told us his name," Killian shot back.

"Hey, don't blame my daughter for this," Henry said, the man sinking, trembling, back into the chair. "What is he doing to her?"

The bickering men fell silent, their anger at one another diffused in the presence of a father's grief.

"No, I'm sorry, Mr Mills. None of this is Regina's fault. And she's a smart girl. I'm sure she did that on purpose. Telling us his full name," Killian said, moving to add 'eal' after the 'N' already written on the whiteboard.

"Yes," Sidney joined in. "Regina has helped us a lot. Her information to the 911 call, telling us Neal's name. She's an amazing young woman and she's going to get through this."

"You don't know that," Henry said through the tears now streaming down his face. "That was her screaming before the call cut out. I know. It was the same noise she made when she fell from Rocinante and broke her arm three summers ago. She's in pain. My baby girl is in pain and -"

"Henry?"

Cora Mills stepped into the truck, escorted by a police officer, her face white. At the sight of his wife, Henry got to his feet and threw his arms around her, letting out his fears and grief. The woman clung to him, terrified to see the strong, reliable stable man she had been married to for twenty-five years crumbling before her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Is Regina ok?"

Killian and Sidney looked at one another, reunited on the same side once more. Breaking devastating news to family members was the worst part of their jobs but having the family involved when the news was still uncertain carried a new challenge.

"We don't know, Cora," Sidney admitted, taking the lead. "We just spoke to her on the phone."

"She's inside the bank? She's being held hostage?"

"Yes," Sidney nodded. "But we think she's ok. She was unharmed when she spoke to her."

"They hurt her, Cora. They hurt our baby," Henry said as he pulled back from his wife. "She told us one of their names and they punished her for it. Our brave baby girl was trying to help us even if it meant putting herself in danger."

Cora reached up and wiped the tears from her husband's cheeks. "She'll get through this, Henry. She's our brave, smart, beautiful daughter and she will get through this."

Resting their foreheads against one another, the couple took a quiet moment to try and ground themselves and one another. Henry had always been the dependable one of the family but when it came to their little girl, he was also intensely emotional. When Regina had fallen from her steed, several summers ago and broken her arm, he had been the one to ride with her in the ambulance from the horse jumping event to the hospital and refused to leave her side until she was discharged three days later.

While Cora loved Regina with all her heart, father and daughter shared a special bond. It didn't mean Cora was any less important to Regina nor that she was any less devastated by the events which were unfolding. But if one of them had to support the other that day, Cora was going to have to step up. Her years as a socialite in New York stood her in good stead and she took in a deep breath turning to the police officers.

"Ok, how can we help you? Is it money they want?"

"Perhaps but at the moment we suspect they are going to try and escape," Killian explained. "In exchange for speaking with your daughter, we have agreed to provide those holding the bank up with a car."

"And you are?" Cora asked, helping her husband to take a seat again, his quivering knees struggling to hold him.

"Lieutenant Killian Rogers," the man spluttered. "Sorry, Ma'am."

Cora cast an appraising eye over the man before looking to Sidney. "He's good?"

"The best," Sidney said solemnly, the argument between the two men put behind them as they focused on moving forwards and saving the hostages.

"Ok then," Cora said. "Maybe I can help. I watch a lot of cop shows. What do you know so far?"

* * *

Neal paced to the far side of the bank, chest rising and falling heavily. He had been foolish to allow Regina to speak, especially to her father. It wasn't long before the rich buffoon put two and two together, concluding that 'Neal' must be Gold's son. He turned back to survey the room. The hostages were all frozen, half of them looking at him, half of them staring at Regina who was still on the ground. Lily hadn't moved. Neal would have almost admired her stoic nature, except that he didn't trust her. Peter was hovering beside the receptionist desk, peering down at Regina. And Emma was leaning over the injured teen, whispering something. Neal's brow furrowed.

"Take her back to the office," he barked, suddenly needing to woman out of her sight.

Emma obliged at once, grateful for the excuse to move Regina out of harm's way. Or further harm. She carefully lifted the teenager to her feet, trying not to look at the deep gash on her face. Once they were away from Neal, she'd try to clean it up, assess the damage.

"No, not you, E. P, you take her."

Both teenager girls turned to stare at Neal. "No, Neal, it's fine," Emma said, knowing the use of his name no longer mattered. "I'll take her."

"No, I want you here with me. P, take her. Now."

Obeying, Peter moved towards the two girls. Emma felt Regina tense in her arms. "He's ok," she murmured as she carefully shifted out of the way and allowed Peter to take over supporting the shaken woman. "He's not going to hurt you." With those final words, Emma gazed meaningfully into Peter's eyes. The boy nodded, signalling that he understood.

Emma watched as Peter led Regina away. A deep sense of foreboding swept over her as she turned back to Neal who had a smirk on his face.

"She's hot, right?"

"Fuck off," Emma snarled at him, sitting down heavily in the chair behind the receptionist's desk.

"She is though. That body is fucking insane. And those tits. I bet she has a sweet pussy too. Do you think she shaves? Or waxes? Maybe she had laser removal. That's what all the rich women do."

Emma's blood boiled as her so-called friend spoke, the casual objectification spilling from his lips as if it meant nothing.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Shame I had to mess up her face though."

"You didn't have to," Emma snapped. "You wanted to."

Neal laughed and made his way back to Emma, leaning down with a hand on each arm of the chair. "Yeah, you're right. I did want to. I wanted you to stop looking at that rich whore like she was your future fucking wife and help me out."

Green eyes narrowed. "I am helping you. I'm fucking here, aren't I?"

"You are but only because you're trapped here. If you could get out, don't tell me you wouldn't."

"Of course I would," Emma cried out, exasperated. "We all would. None of us want to be here, Neal. We're here because you fucked up. Carrying out your vendetta against your dad and screwing up our plan. This is your fault, not Regina's."

The hostages watched this exchange with interest and fear in equal measure. The dynamics between their captors was shifting but whether was a good or dangerous change remained to be seen.

"So you think if it wasn't for me, you and Regina would have waltzed off into the sunset? Stop dreaming Emma. You fucking kidnapped her."

"I never said anything about fucking sunset waltzes with Regina."

"You didn't have to," Neal laughed. "I can see it, Emma. I can read you like a book."

"Oh yeah? So if you know I'm gay, why make me have sex with you?"

It was the first time Emma had admitted, to herself or anyone else, her sexual orientation. The revelation, however, came as no surprise to Neal.

"It was just sex," he shrugged. "We both enjoyed it."

Emma said nothing. It was true that she had experienced orgasms while she and Neal had sex, but those biological pleasure peaks didn't mean she enjoyed being with him.

"Anyway, Regina probably isn't even gay," the blonde said quietly to herself.

Neal laughed again. "Yeah, cos that would be the problem in your budding romance. Not the fact that you fucking kidnapped her? Jesus, Emma, stop dreaming about some hot piece of ass you're never going to have and start helping me work out how we're going to get out of this mess."

"And if I don't?" Emma asked, jutting her chin out childishly.

"If you don't help me, then perhaps I'll take my disappointment in your lack of loyalty out on our favourite billionaire hostage?"

* * *

A/N: I get some sick enjoyment about writing different ways in which Regina's character gets her lip scar. Is that a perversion? When the idea for this fic first came to me, one of the only fully formed concepts I had was that Regina was going to be pistol whipped… If you need me, I'll be reading a book titled 'ten signs you're a psychopath'. See you on Sunday!


	9. The Theory

A/N: Happy Sunday peeps

* * *

Emma watched out of narrowed eyes as Neal paced up and down the length of the bank. Pacing was what the man did when he thought, she knew. He had paced a lot in the summery breeze of Central Park as they planned the bank robbery. As it turned out, however, he was clearly thinking of elements of which Emma was unaware.

The hostages' eyes watched him too. It was apparent to everyone that the man they now knew to be called Neal was in charge. And violent. Lily, the unnamed assailant whom they also knew to be willing to fire her weapon, hadn't moved.

Reaching up, Emma scratched her nose through the ski mask. The wool was becoming more irritating and she wished she could take it off. There weren't any operating security cameras in the bank, she realised, but if, by some complete twist of fate, they did manage to escape, she didn't want the hostages to be able to give her description to the police. As it was, only her first name had been revealed. She didn't have a criminal record … yet, and she wasn't registered as a resident in New York.

As well as her name, she pondered, Regina would probably be able to describe her eyes in great details. They'd held one another's gaze for long enough for the brunette to have seen the flecks of amber in her green orbs.

"Neal," Emma said after several minutes of silence. "What's the plan?"

"They'll call back," he said through gritted teeth, still pacing. "We wait for their call."

Emma glanced at the phone which had remained mute since it had been slammed back down on the receiver. Neal was right, she supposed. Regina's scream of pain would have been heard by her father and the police. Another call was coming. Unless … unless they decided to breach the bank immediately. She glanced towards the frosted windows which faced the main street. Shadows, barely moving, were visible through the glass.

"And ask for what?" Emma pushed. "How are we going to get out of here?"

"They're getting us a car," Neal said. "You heard Jolly Rogers, they're getting the car now because I let them speak to the princess. We can drive away from here, no problem."

Was the man that naive? Why was this the process all bank robbers followed when none of them ever drove off happily into the sunset with great bags of cash loaded up into the trunk of vehicles generously donated to them by law enforcement?

"Drive where?" Emma asked.

She had never been particularly fond of New York. Her transient childhood meant she had learned not to get attached to one place. She never anywhere stayed long-term. New York had been better than some of the cities she had found herself in but it wasn't home. There was nothing keeping her on the island of Manhattan. So why did the idea of driving over a bridge or through a tunnel make her stomach do little backflips?

"An airport."

"I don't have a passport," Emma reminded him. "Neither does P or L and unless you've broken back into your childhood home and got yours, neither do you."

"You don't need a passport for a private jet," Neal said.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, cos the police are going to organise a private jet for us. For fuck sake, Neal, do you want us to get out of here alive or not?"

"We don't need the cops for this, Emma," Neal said with a glint in his eyes. "Because Regina Mills is going to welcome us onto her family's jet and accompany us on the first leg of our journey into the rest of our lives."

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. Of course Regina's family had their own plane. They probably had a whole fleet of them. And, Emma realised, Neal's plan was far better than she had imagined. Regina wouldn't dare do anything which might put her in danger and nor would the police, nor the pilot the family no doubt had on standby for their extravagant mode of transport. They could, she mused, pull this off.

* * *

The HNT truck hummed with quiet conversation. Killian and Sidney murmured together while Cora and sat down beside Henry and draped a slender arm around his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way. She whispered to him, reminding him that their daughter was strong and capable and was going to be just fine. She wasn't sure if she believed the words but knew her husband needed to hear them.

"Excuse me, Henry, Cora," Sidney said after a moment. "We're just discussing this 'Neal' person. We think there may have been a reason Regina told us his name, beyond just handing us more information. After all, it's a common name. Judging by his voice, he seems to be a young man. Does your daughter know anyone called Neal?"

"No," Cora said. "I don't think so."

"A boyfriend, perhaps?" Killian asked.

"No," Henry said. "She's dating Danny Colter. A fine young man. Regina doesn't know anyone called Neal."

"Ok, in that case, do either of you know anyone called Neal?" Sidney asked.

Cora quickly ran through all of her friends and their husbands then moved onto everyone who sat on the charity boards with her. "Neal Willis," she said. "But he's pushing eighty and is the owner of a multi-million-dollar company. I doubt he'll be robbing banks."

"I had an office manager called Neal a few years ago," Henry mused.

"Was he young?" Killian asked.

"Thirties," Henry shrugged. "Respectable family man. I think he had a daughter."

"Does he still work for you?"

"No," Henry replied. "But he moved away. California, I think. He was a great employee; I was sorry to lose him actually. His wife got a great job offer and they couldn't turn it down, despite me offering to increase his salary. I can't see him doing this."

Sidney and Killian glanced at one another. Neither of those leads were at all useful. Perhaps Regina really was just trying to offer the police any tiny piece of information that might help. But both seasoned police officers had sensed, instinctively, that there was something more.

"Hang on," Cora said suddenly. "Robert and Milah's son was called Neal."

Henry's head, which had been hanging in despair, snapped up. "Yes, he was."

Sidney clapped a hand to his forehead. "Yes, he was. He ran away, right? After the scandal?"

Cora nodded. "Yes, it would have been about seven years ago. He was only a few years older than Regina. Sixteen, perhaps. He'd be early twenties now."

"Are you talking about Robert Gold who's the manager of the bank?" Killian asked, wanting to confirm the connection he had made.

"Yes," Cora said, standing up. "He and his wife Milah had a son, Neal. But he disappeared after he found out what had happened and no one ever heard from him again."

"What had happened?" Killian asked, completely unaware of the events which the other three were talking about, not being part of their social circle.

"Robert had an affair. I think it was with one of his bank employees. What was her name, sweetheart?" she asked her husband.

"Bonnie, Bella, Bailey or something like that," the man shrugged.

"Belle," Cora remembered. "Yes, Belle. She was young. Barely out of university, I think. Beautiful though. It broke Milah's heart when she found out. I'm not sure why she stayed with him. My Henry knows that if he was ever unfaithful, I'd walk out on him."

"I'd never dream of it, my love," Henry said, pressing a kiss to his wife's cheek.

"So, Mr Gold had an affair," Killian clarified, wanting to get the conversation back on track.

"Yes," Cora nodded. "I don't know how long the two of them were sneaking around but one day Milah walked in on the two of them in Robert's office. She'd come to meet him for lunch. Terrible shock for her, poor dear. But he ended the fling and she forgave him."

"And Neal?"

"I don't think he knew straight away," Cora said. "But you know how gossip travels. Milah must have told a friend she shouldn't have and eventually everyone knew. I guess it was inevitable that someone told Neal. He confronted Robert at a charity benefit that summer. I suspect he had just found out as the way he spoke was very hot headed."

"He was sixteen," Henry reminded her. "And he had just found out that his father had cheated on his mother."

"Well, yes," Cora reasoned. "Anyway, they had a huge argument in front of everyone. Sidney, you were there, yes?" The police commissioner nodded. He remembered the night well. There were plenty of scandalous spectacles at exclusive events but that blowout had been particularly impressive. "Robert practically dragged Neal out of the hall. He was a strong lad and Robert was struggling to control him. Milah left with them, I remember. And then a few days later I heard that Neal had run away from home. No one knew where he went."

Killian moved to the whiteboard and began to add the information they had. Robert Gold. Milah Gold. The surname was also added at the end of Neal's.

"Ok," Killian said. "So it's looking more and more like this bank robbery has nothing to do with your daughter and that her presence is a complete coincidence. I think we should be working on the assumption that this was an attack motivated by emotion, rather than greed. The problem remains, however, that Neal knows who Regina is and has inside knowledge of the bank. Are we sure there isn't another way out of the building?"

"No," one of Killian's detectives said. "There is only the side door which is heavily guarded by us now."

"That's also where he said he wanted to car delivered. They can drive out of the alley and then turn onto 56th street, right?"

"Yes, Lieu," the detective nodded.

"Well, it's not like they're going to be able to get out of Manhattan without stopping at a dozen red lights and we can just follow them anyway. I can't imagine Neal really thinks he can escape. The question is, what can we offer him to think that he will so that he leaves the bank and we can take him and his team down without putting hostages in harm's way?"

* * *

The phone rang again, as Neal had said it would. Emma looked at it then at her friend.

"Pick it up," he said.

She did so. "Hello?"

"Hello, it's Lieutenant Rogers here. Is that E?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded.

"Speakerphone," Neal said.

Emma obliged again and pressed the button, laying the phone on the desk as the policeman's voice continued.

"How is everyone?"

"Fine," Emma replied shortly.

"And how is Regina?"

Emma felt her stomach clench. She wished she knew the answer to that question.

"She's just dandy, Jolly Rogers," Neal said after Emma failed to say anything. "Despite her attempt to help you when she and you both know I'm in control."

"Absolutely, Neal," came the calm, measured response. "You are in control. Which is why I'm calling. Now, your car is on its way and I would like to know if there is anything else I can do for you. We'd really like to get the man who has been shot out of there and send him to a hospital. Is there anything I can get for you in exchange for this?"

Neal chuckled. "Oh, Jolly Rogers, you think we're in a position to bargain with one another. That's cute. And stupid. You know full well I hold all the cards."

"You do, Neal, you do," the Lieutenant agreed. "How about we call this a show of good faith then? We've got about ten minutes to wait before your car arrives. It would only take a couple of minutes for our paramedics to come in. What do you say?"

"Nah, I'm good thanks. I've got everything I need."

"Do you, Neal?" Killian asked, pushing a little harder. "I mean, I know you've got your car but where do you plan to drive to?"

The man chuckled. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Stabbing the end call button, Neal turned away from the desk. Emma glanced at the man who was still unconscious on the floor. At least, she hoped he was unconscious and had not slipped from this world. She remembered Regina's injury, the dark blood smeared across her olive cheek where the young woman had fallen, her face landing on the cool tiles. Looking down, she saw the smudge of matching blood on the floor just feet from where she stood.

"Neal," Emma said slowly. "If we're taking Regina as a hostage, she's going to need to, you know, be on our side, right?"

"We have guns, Emma," Neal said, waving his weapon as if to make a point. "If she values her life, she doesn't have a choice."

"True, but if she was more compliant, that would be easier, wouldn't it? Plus, she must know that if we kill her," Emma shuddered at the thought, "the police will just kill us. We need her alive."

"Wanna go see your girlfriend and check out how fucked up her face is?" Neal jeered, despite knowing there was truth in Emma's words.

Emma said nothing. She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, green eyes defiant as they gazed on the man stood leaning on the desk. The hostages watched the exchange nervously. It was becoming apparent that their presence meant nothing to the bank takers and that they cared only about the rich teenager who had been led away.

"Fine," Neal grunted. "Go kiss her better. Don't tell her the plan though. If I need her to talk to Daddy Mills again, I can't risk her telling him what we're doing. I'm trusting you, Emma. You don't want to break that trust, do you?" There was no thin veiling on that threat. "And send P back. I want him to get everything ready for when we leave."

Getting to her feet, Emma nodded her understanding. As fast as she dared, she walked from the room, breaking into a run as soon as she reached the corridor. Within seconds, she was framed in the doorway, both Peter and Regina looking up at her sudden appearance.

"P, Neal wants you," Emma said, sparing only a glance at the boy as she advanced into the room towards Regina. "I'll stay here."

Without a word, Peter got up and obeyed the order. He was fast losing faith in the plan but he didn't dare defy Neal. Whatever was going to happen, they were in this together.

"Are you ok?" Emma asked as soon as Peter had left the room, glancing at Mr Gold and seeing that the man was still unconscious.

Regina, whose eyes hadn't left Emma's since the blonde appeared, shook her head. As she reached the young woman's chair, Emma knelt down in front of her, placed the gun on the floor and peered up into the bloodied face. Already the flow had stopped and bright pink flesh was visible where Neal's gun had split her skin. The wound was perhaps an inch long, running through her lip and up towards her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Emma said, reaching for Regina's handbag and finding a packet of tissues which she had assumed, correctly, would be in there.

"Why? It's not your fault," Regina replied quietly, before wincing.

They were the first words she had spoken since the assault and the movement tugged at the damaged skin.

"You asked me to protect you. I failed," Emma said simply as she got up get a jug of water from Mr Gold's desk with which she could wet the tissue.

Regina scoffed. "I asked someone who took me hostage to protect me. It's hardly your fault that you didn't. I mean, why was I even asking in the first place?"

Emma ignored the question and began to dab at the blood on Regina's cheek. Both women were perfectly aware of the reason behind the request. It might be too big, too abstract to put into words just yet but it was still tangible. Working slowly, carefully, Emma tried to clean up the brunette. Beginning furthest away from the wound, she wiped the dried blood from Regina's face until only that very close to the gash remained. As she worked, Regina's eyes studied the slit of Emma's face that she could see.

"This might hurt a bit," Emma murmured as she began to clean the cut itself.

Regina nodded her understanding but hissed at the first contact. The skin at the corner of Emma's eyes crinkled in compassion. She continued, however, knowing that it was best for the wound to be cleaned. Within a few minutes, the work was done and Emma sat back on her heels.

"There," she said, admiring her handiwork and then grimacing. "I think you need sutures."

"You're not stitching my lip," Regina said quickly.

Emma couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I wasn't offering to but when you get out of here, I'd head to the emergency room to get that seen to."

"When I get out of here?" Regina repeated. "Is that a joke?"

"No, Regina," Emma said, standing up and disposing of the bloodied tissues she had used. "You're going to get out of here, I promise."

"In a body bag, perhaps. Neal is crazy. Why on earth did you agree to do this with him?"

"It's not like I actually knew his plan," Emma shot back.

Regina shrugged. "Even without the knowledge that the target was his father's bank, this was a pretty fucking stupid plan."

Emma swallowed. There was something intrinsically sexy about a sophisticated, well-spoken young woman swearing. "Well, when you're on the street, it's not like you have a wide range of high quality human beings from which to choose your friends. Neal looked out for me. He protected me. At night, on the streets, you need someone by your side."

At that, Regina frowned. "You mean, like, as your boyfriend?"

If Emma's mind hadn't been so full with thoughts and emotions, she probably would have picked up on the hint of jealousy in Regina's words. As it was, she just shrugged and answered. "Boyfriend might be too strong a word. That would imply romantic feelings."

"So you fuck but don't feel for each other?"

There was that word again. Emma's chest tightened. She also felt a slight blush rise up her cheeks at the way Regina had described the complicated relationship she and Neal shared. She moved further from the brunette who was making processing thoughts difficult and sat in the vacant chair.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yeah, I guess that's pretty much it. I consider it sex in exchange for protection. I don't think he sees it as anything more than that either."

There was a pause. Emma placed the gun she still held in her lap and ran her finger over the grip several times.

"You can have sex without loving the person you're with?"

At that, Emma looked up once more. "What?"

"You and Neal have sex and yet you don't love each other?"

Emma hesitated and then nodded. "Yeah."

"How?"

Well, this conversation has taken a turn, Emma mused. "What do you mean 'how'? We're fucking, not making love. Just in the way that you can have a one night stand with someone you don't even know the name of. It's just an act, right? Sex doesn't have to mean love."

The next words were just a whisper. "It does to me."

"So, you're telling me you've never had sex with someone you've not been in love with?" Emma asked, incredulous.

"Yes," Regina nodded.

"Wow," Emma said. "I guess that's one way to keep your number down."

There was another pause. Emma was still shocked by the romanticised view of sex. It was sweet, really, if naïve. For her, sex had never been about love. She didn't think she had ever been in love but she was certainly not a virgin. Regina was also battling with her own thoughts, trying to decide how much to reveal.

"I've never been in love," the brunette said eventually.

Emma gulped. Did that mean -? Was Regina saying -? Suddenly, the room felt very hot. Without thinking, Emma reached up and tugged the scratchy ski mask from her head, tossing it aside. There was a sharp intake of breath as Regina Mills gazed onto the youthful face of Emma Swan for the first time.

* * *

A/N: Slowly, slowly …


	10. The Touch

A/N: Oh, someone asked me in a review if there was going to be a rape scene in this story. There isn't, just FYI. Hope your week's going well!

* * *

Emma reached up and ran her hand over her hair, trying to flatten it as the static from the wool sent long blonde strands flailing in the air. The owner of the brown eyes watching her silently wished she was the one sorting out the wild mane, partly because she wanted to run her fingers through it and partly because the movement would mean her hands were finally untied. Her wrists were aching. And then Emma's gaze locked with hers once more and she forgot about her pain for a moment.

"My God, you're just a child." Regina said as she realised how young her captor really was.

Emma's nose wrinkled in a typical teenage way. "I'm seventeen," she replied, arms folded.

"A child," Regina repeated.

"You're not much older than me," Emma shot back.

Despite the conviction in her words, Emma realised it was hard to tell Regina's age. There was something mature about the elegance with which she carried herself but her features still looked youthful.

"Ok, technically," Regina pouted. "But I am an adult."

Emma smirked. "You're eighteen, aren't you?"

Regina bit her bottom lip before winching at the pain as the cut on her face tugged uncomfortably at the skin. She nodded. "Yes."

Smiling triumphantly, Emma leaned back in her chair. "Well, then don't call me a child."

"In light of today's events, it's a good thing, to be fair," Regina mused. "Chances are you'd be charged in family court, right? I mean, you're a minor."

Emma shrugged her shoulders. "I'm pretty sure that only works for less serious crimes. Although to be fair, I get all my knowledge of our legal system from Law & Orders but even the fourteen year olds on there who are charged with murder are tried as adults. I assume Dick Wolf did his research."

"My mother watches that show," Regina said, suddenly wishing she was curled up on the sofa with the woman, the two of them munching on snacks as another case unfolded before them. And then she realised what Emma had said. "But … you've not murdered anyone."

There was no mistaking the tremble of fear in her voice as she spoke. Every now and then waves of clarity rolled over Regina when she remembered that she was being held hostage at gunpoint. Despite Emma's seemingly kind nature and, she swallowed, her stunning beauty, the woman was still holding a loaded weapon and was part of a robbery crew who had already injured two other hostages.

"I'm not planning to murder anyone," Emma said quietly. "I've never even fired a gun. The thought of doing that scares the shit out of me. Although don't tell Neal that."

Regina couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Why would I tell Neal?"

Emma shrugged again. "I dunno. You were childhood friends, right?" Ever since she had found out Neal's connection to the bank and, incidentally, to Regina, she had been wondering about the history between the two.

"Barely. He was five years older than me. When he disappeared, we wouldn't exactly have called on another friends. Back then I was a snotty eleven-year-old. He was a moody teenager. Perhaps we played together when we were much younger but I don't really remember it. He was just the son of my parent's friends."

"I doubt you were ever snotty."

"Wealth doesn't counteract nasal mucus," Regina laughed, ignoring the pain which stemmed from her lip as a result of the movement.

Despite the disgustingness of the sentence, Emma laughed too. Regina watched as the blonde leaned back in her chair, seemingly relaxed once more. Just like her, it seemed as if Emma sometimes forgot the dire situation she was in and let herself act naturally.

"Regina?"

At the croaked word, she tore her gaze from the enchanting blonde and turned to Mr Gold whose eyes were cracked open once more. "Robert, are you ok?" she asked, noting how pale the old man looked, the blood now dried against the side of his face.

The man took in the scene before him. Was he concussed? From what he could see, a girl who was, even without the ski mask, unmistakably one of the hostage takers appeared to be laughing with Regina. The brunette, he realised, had been injured. He could see the raw pink flesh where her skin had been split open. He had failed to protect her. How was he going to tell her father what had happened?

Regina glanced to the blonde as she waited for Mr Gold to reply. Emma was staring at her feet but sat up a little straighter and tucked her hair behind her ears. She considered reaching for the ski mask again but the damage was done.

"What's going on?" Mr Gold asked at last, thoroughly confused. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm ok. Would you like some water?" Regina asked, ignoring the first question which she didn't know how to answer and focusing on how parched the man sounded.

When the man nodded, Regina realised that she had no way of complying with the offer she had made. The jug which had held drinking water was still on the floor beside her chair from when Emma had used it to clean her lip.

"Um, Emma, can we give Mr Gold something to drink? He looks thirsty."

It was at that moment when Emma noted she too was thirsty. And hungry. That said, living on the street meant she was often hungry. Glancing between Regina and Mr Gold, Emma eventually nodded. Standing up and tucking the gun into her waistband, she crossed the room and bent down beside Regina to pick up the jug. As she did so, the back of her hand grazed down the smooth skin of Regina's calf. The older teen jumped at the contact but didn't move away. Straightening, Emma didn't look at the brunette and instead picked up a glass from the desk. Pouring out some of the liquid, she gulped it down herself before repeating the action and circling the desk.

Holding the water up to Mr Gold's lips, Emma avoided looking into the man's small dark eyes which she knew were studying her features. Once the man had drunk the glass, she filled the cup once more and walked back to Regina.

"Do you want some?" she asked.

Slowly, Regina nodded. Emma placed the glass to her lips and tipped it back gently. She whimpered as the water came into contact with the wound on her lip for the first time.

"Are you ok?" Emma said, green orbs full of concern, as she pulled the glass back at once.

"It's fine. I'm thirsty. I want to drink even if it hurts," Regina assured her, nodding that she wanted more and that Emma could bring the glass back to her lips. Emma obliged.

As Regina swallowed, Emma's eyes followed the rippling of her slender throat, wondering what it would be like to run her tongue over the smooth expanse of olive skin. So fixated was she on Regina's neck that she lost concentration and water spilled out over the rim of the glass.

"Sorry," she murmured when she realised, reaching out without thinking and wiping the droplets away with the pad of her thumb.

Regina's breath hitched and Emma's movements stilled when she registered what she was doing. She stood, frozen with her thumb resting of Regina's chin.

"Um, where's my son?"

The two women sprang apart, suddenly remembering that they were no longer alone. Emma placed the jug and glass heavily on the desk and returned to her seat, wishing Mr Gold had not yet returned to consciousness. Regina watched her go, the exact same thought running through her mind.

* * *

Killian stood in the doorway to the HNT truck, staring out over the road to the building in which there were eighteen people being held hostage who were dependent on him to be rescued safely. Surrounding the bank was a ring of armed police officers, their guns trained on the doors and windows. He glanced up to the windows and roofs around and saw snipers poised and ready.

"Lieutenant Jones," a young officer said, appearing in front of him. "The car they requested is here."

"Good," Killian said. "Full tank of gas like they asked?"

"Yes, Lieu."

"GPS tracker?"

"Yes," the officer nodded. "Everything has been completed. Where do you want it?"

"The alley, like he said. Pointing East. Leave the keys in the ignition too but turn the engine off. Make sure the cops in that area stay put. And can you see where those escape route plans are? I need all of the different ways off Manhattan he could take from the end of that alley mapped out."

"No problem, Lieutenant. I'll let you know when we have that information."

"Good. And did you get an update on the security system?"

The officer nodded again. "Yes, they've shut the whole thing down. Our techs reckon it will take at least an hour to get it back up and running."

"We don't have an hour," Killian said, more to himself than the officer. "Ok, thanks for the update. Keep me in the loop."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

Killian nodded tersely and turned, removing his sunglasses as he stepped back into the interior of the truck. Sidney was now sat beside Henry and Cora was talking to Zelena who had insisted, according to the rattled officer who escorted her, on coming back to the HNT truck to wait with Regina's family. The older woman had her arm around the redhead's shoulders which were trembling lightly.

"The car's here," he muttered to Sidney as he passed.

Sidney excused himself from Henry and moved to Killian's side where he was bent over the table once more.

"What's the plan?"

"I don't know," Killian admitted. "I don't know their plan. We're missing something. They haven't asked for enough. I mean, yes they've got the car but they must know that it won't be possible to just drive out of the city without any consequences. So they must be taking hostages with them, right?"

"Sounds sensible, yes," Sidney nodded.

"But then even if they have a hostage so we can't take the car out, what are they going to do? Drive and hope we don't follow? No, there's another part of the plan. They're going to get out of the country somehow."

Sidney tapped his chin. "Did you offer them tickets to an extradition country? Or did they ask for them?"

"No," Killian said slowly. "Which is strange, right? And if we're assuming that we're correct thinking this is indeed Neal Gold, he's an educated young lad. He's not stupid. Yet his plan seems to be rather flawed."

"Call him," Sidney suggested. "Tell him the car is ready. Ask him what he wants next. Maybe he'll show his hand."

* * *

Stretching out his arms, Neal interlaced his hands behind his head and leaned back in the computer chair he now occupied, feet propped up on the edge of the desk. He smirked and winked at a young blonde hostage who ducked her head as soon as their eyes met. Shame, he mused. She was her type. But Neal wasn't into forcing women. Where was the enjoyment in having someone struggle against you? At least Emma, even if she was gay, didn't complain. And he knew she liked it, even if she might now say she didn't.

His attention turned towards Lily who was still standing, motionless as a statue, on the far side of the bank. Despite her earlier hot-headedness, he was coming to admire her now seemingly unflappable nature. He could tell Peter, who was stood behind him, was on edge and Emma, well, Emma was smitten. It was ok, Neal mused. Emma and Regina's little connection could come in handy for the next part of his plan.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small jewellery box. He ran his fingers over the smooth wood several times before flipping it open. The diamond glinted up at him, oblivious to the family it had torn apart. He remembered being taken by its beauty when he had first discovered the piece in his father's side table. What he had been looking for in the drawer, he could no longer recall.

Yes, his first thought had been how beautiful the rock had been. But then slowly he had realised that it was not a ring he recognised and most certainly didn't belong to his mother. And that meant …

Neal tossed the box onto the desk, much as he had thrown it onto his father's side table seven years earlier. Before he could spiral down the rabbit hole of hatred he felt towards the man who had broken his mother's heart, however, the phone rang.

"Hey Jolly Rogers," he said casually. "Got my car yet?"

"Hi Neal," came the now familiar tone. "Yes, it's in the alleyway, pointed East as you requested."

"Full tank? Keys in the ignition?"

"Yes," Lieutenant Rogers replied. "Now, what else can I get for you?"

Neal said nothing. A smirk spread over his face. "Nothing thanks. I would ask you to clear the alley of police but I know you won't do that. But it's ok. I'm pretty sure you're not going to risk shooting Little Miss Regina Mills, right?"

There was a pause. "Neal, you don't need to take Regina with you."

"True," Neal grinned. "I could take this kid I've got hostage in here. Cop shoots kid is always a bad headline. What's your name, kid?"

All the hostages knew who Neal was talking about. The mother shuffled impossibly closer to her son. Neal grinned in enjoyment at the ripple of terror he had created.

"Kid. Name. Now."

"T-Tommy," the small boy stuttered eventually.

"Tommy," Neal repeated. "Right. So Jolly Rogers, I could take Regina or I could take Tommy or maybe you want to piss me off a bit more and I'll take both of them. What do you say?"

"No, Neal. I told you, you're in control. No one is trying to piss you off."

"Then you must have a natural talent for doing so," Neal chuckled.

"I'm sorry, Neal. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the car, Jolly Rogers." At that, he dropped the phone back onto the receiver and stood up. "L, P, stay here. Feel free to shoot them if they move. The paramedics will be in soon enough anyway. They probably won't die."

Lily didn't move. She just nodded slowly. Peter nodded too but Neal knew full well he would never fire. He walked from the room, picking up two of the sacks of cash as he went and turning right when he entered the corridor.

* * *

After a few minutes of silence, Emma couldn't resist looking back at Regina. She was unsurprised to see intense brown eyes locked on her face. She felt her cheeks burn red.

"Do you know what Neal's plan is?" Regina asked quietly.

"What?"

"The plan," Regina repeated. "He must have one. Do you know what it is?"

Emma looked down into her lap, mindlessly scratching at a stain on her thigh. "No."

Even Emma knew how untrue that one word sounded. But she kept her gaze fixed on her jeans, not daring to look up because she knew if she looked at Regina she'd break.

"Emma, if you tell me, maybe I can help," Regina said, her voice almost pleading now.

It was no good. She raised her head but her gaze darted to Mr Gold first. His eyes were closed. Was he unconscious again? As she watched, they fluttered open briefly before snapping shut. No, he was awake, she was sure. And feigning sleep to allow her and Regina some privacy.

"You can't help," Emma said quietly. "Just do as he says, ok?"

"What's he going to say?"

Emma looked directly into the deep brown eyes, pleading, filled with fear and apprehension and yet something else lurked beneath the surface, something that wasn't usually felt when one was held hostage.

"Regina, I can't tell you. If he finds out I told you, he'll … I can't tell you."

"Damn right you can't."

Shit, Emma thought to herself. Why did she have to get lost in those beautiful coffee orbs every time Neal was about to appear. But the man didn't seem angry this time. In fact, he laughed.

"Fuck, Ems. You took your mask off? Thought you'd win her over with your high cheekbones or something?"

If possible, the blush on Emma's face which hadn't yet faded got even darker. "What do you want from us?"

"Us?" Neal repeated, before laughing. "Oh, Ems, there is no 'us'. There is you and her. Separate. There's never going to be an 'us' between you and Regina fucking Mills. Anyway, I don't want anything from you except to help me get us all out of here alive. I'm pretty sure you want that even if you are mad at me."

Emma said nothing but she did narrow her eyes. "What do you want?" she repeated.

"Your fantasy girlfriend," he said, crossing towards Regina and yanking to her feet before Emma had even launched herself from her chair and taken two steps. Neal laughed. "Fine, take her yourself. I've got a job to do anyway." His face went stony at the final few words.

Emma followed the man's gaze to land on Mr Gold whose eyes were open again. "Neal, no. Just leave him."

"Can't, Ems," Neal said, his voice a little constricted. "Now I'm giving you a chance to take this sexy piece of ass out of here. I'd suggest you do that. I'll meet you at the back door in a minute. P and L are still in the front of the bank."

Torn between arguing with Neal and trying to keep Regina safe, the latter soon won out and Emma took hold of Regina's arm and steered her from the room. Two two women looked back in the doorway just as Neal swung the rifle from his shoulder and advanced towards his father.

* * *

A/N: see you on Sunday!


	11. The Confrontation

A/N: Happy Sunday peeps! And, in response to one of my reviewers, yes this does seem like the longest bank robbery in history but in reality it's been about 45 minutes…

* * *

"Emma, we can't leave Robert," Regina said in a hushed whisper as the blonde led her from the room. She glanced back over her shoulder, glimpsing the bank manager sat before his son, a mix of fear and resignation on his features.

"Yeah, we can," Emma replied through gritted teeth. In reality, the idea that they were walking away from a man whom, she sensed, was about to face a singular judge, jury and executioner, made her sick to the pit of her stomach. But there was a greater terror which commanded her feet as they steered herself and Regina towards the rear exit of the bank.

Regina twisted in her grip, as if trying to break free. Instinctively, Emma jerked the slender bicep around which her hand grasped.

"Ouch," Regina grumbled, as the blonde pulled her forwards.

"Just walk with me, goddamn it. Or do you want Neal to kill you too?"

The abruptness of the statement made Regina stop fighting. The two of them walked the short distance to the fire exit in silence. As they passed the doorway through to the main bank, Regina glanced inside. From what she could see, nothing had changed from the last time she had been there. Was the gunshot victim still alive? How long until the other hostages were free? She discounted herself as a hostage in that question, as she could tell her ordeal was far from over. Terrifying as it was, the warmth of Emma's palm against her skin calmed her slightly.

Emma noted as they arrived at the back door the large bags of money were stacked against the wall. Well, at least Neal had followed through with some of their plan. She wondered, briefly, where Felix was. It was impossible to think he was still waiting in the alley for them; the whole place was swarmed by police. But had he got away, or had he been apprehended? Emma wasn't sure which option she preferred. She had never particularly warmed to Felix but surely it was better for him to have deserted them than to be currently interrogated by police who were trying to uncover their plans.

"Where are you taking me?" Regina asked when they got to the back door and stopped walking.

"You heard Neal," Emma sighed. "I can't tell you. And to be honest, I'm not even sure. Actually, I don't even know if he quite knows yet. In case you hadn't noticed, we've had to go a bit off-piste."

Despite the situation, Regina couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, I guess you could say you guys are pretty much making it up as you go along."

"Exactly and whatever is the next part of Neal's crazy plan he hasn't deigned me fit to know the full details."

"But you know some of the details?" Regina asked, her best pleading yet innocent expression plastered across her face.

* * *

As the footsteps retreated down the corridor, Neal moved closer to his father, gun pointed squarely at his chest. Their eyes met. Tired, defeated orbs gazing into stormy eyes of the exact same colour and shade.

"Neal," Mr Gold said weakly. "You don't have to do this."

"Shut up," Neal spat. "You have no idea what I have to do. You don't know me, not any more. So why don't you just shut up and listen for once?"

Mr Gold said nothing. There was no point hastening the inevitable. His son was right; he didn't really know him. It was clear the seven years living on the street had changed Neal beyond recognition. But the one characteristic which he was confident his son would still embody was his stubbornness to see an idea through to the end. Neal had always been a wilful child. That was why, he was sure, the man had not yielded to any police demands and also why, Mr Gold believed, his fate was sealed.

The silence stretched for a few more seconds, as if Neal was trying to work out where to start. Eventually, he stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the jewellery box. He placed the item on the desk and opened it facing his father. The man's eyes moved, unavoidably, to the glittering diamond. His heart constricted at the sight, aching for the loss of his great love. He knew it had been wrong to cheat on his wife but there had been something about Belle which was simply irresistible to him.

"Was it worth it?" Neal said simply. "Was she worth it?"

"Neal, please, let's not do this. It won't do you or I any good to go over the past."

The younger Gold stepped further forwards the muzzle of his rifle now less then four feet from his father. "Don't make me ask again," he hissed, low and dangerous.

Mr Gold sighed and dropped his gaze, not wanting to stare into his son's cold face nor the barrel of the weapon any longer. "I regret what I did to your mother and to you every day."

"That wasn't the question," Neal snarled. "Was she worth it? Was she worth breaking Mom's heart for?"

"I never meant to hurt your mother."

Neal actually growled as he advanced further, leaning over the table so that his gun now pressed against his father's sternum. "Was she worth it?" he asked, his voice slow, low and deadly.

Mr Gold swallowed. Where the gun was pressed against him, even through his shirt, he could feel the cool metal. Beneath it, his heart beat faster, as if sensing the number of pumps it had left had suddenly been drastically reduced. He looked down to the point where the weapon held by his only son met his chest, unable to meet the tortured man's eyes when he answered.

"Yes," he said, barely more than a whisper. "I loved her. I still love her. But I also love your mother and I love you, Neal."

With those final words, he looked up once more, eyes shimmering with tears at the confession. It ate him up inside that he didn't regret his actions with Belle. Yes, he regretted the way Milah found out about the affair but he didn't regret having it. And if Belle hadn't left town, he would have filed for divorce and been with his true love. As it was, the brunette beauty had fled in the wake of the scandal and he had never seen nor heard from her again. Robert knew he didn't do well alone and so he had pled forgiveness from his wife. Milah had agreed, finally, to stay together, for the sake of their son. Judging by their current situation, however, that reasoning hadn't worked out so well.

"You still love her?" Neal asked, his voice trembling. "How can you even say that? You're with Mom."

"It's complicated, son," Mr Gold said.

"I'm not your son," Neal hissed. "Not any more. Not after what you did to Mom. You don't deserve her. You don't deserve us."

"You're right," Mr Gold nodded. "I don't deserve your mother. Her forgiveness was more than I could have dared dream for and I am so grateful for her kind nature every day. But, Neal, I also don't deserve to die, do I?"

Neal narrowed his eyes and pressed the gun harder into the man's chest. He gave a little wheeze and coughed at the pressure exerted. "Give me one good reason why you deserve to live."

"Your mother, Neal. Think of your mother."

Neal scoffed. "Like you were thinking of Mom when you fucked your secretary?"

"She wasn't my secretary. She was -"

"That's not the point!" Neal bellowed, giving another forceful prod to his father's chest. "That's not the fucking point, Dad. You can't tell me to think of Mom when it's obvious you weren't when you cheated on her. She'd be better off without you, anyway."

"Maybe you're right, Neal. But think about what it would do to her to find out what's happened today. She wouldn't just be losing me; she'd be losing you too."

"Even if I don't kill you, we both know I'll never see Mom again. After today, there are only two possible outcomes for me. Death or a life on the run."

"Then choose the latter, Neal, and don't allow your mother to read the headlines which would be written if you pulled that trigger."

Mr Gold didn't know where the words were coming from but, in an abstract way, he was proud of himself. Faced with his volatile, homicidal son, he was somehow, miraculously, buying himself some time and preventing Neal from murdering him. He wasn't sure how long it would last; the man was intensely unpredictable. But, for now, he was alive.

"Don't you think Mom is better off without the both of us?" Neal said, his voice suddenly quiet, almost defeated.

It was, Mr Gold realised, an opening. "Me, perhaps, but not you, Neal. When you ran away, your mother was distraught. She'd do anything to have you back. Anything. Don't you think she deserves to see you again; as her son, not as the man who murdered her husband?"

"You don't deserve to be her husband," Neal spat, anger flaring inside him once more. Mr Gold shrank back, not wanting to antagonise the man further.

"No, I don't. But she doesn't deserve to have her husband murdered by her son, does she?"

Neal's nostrils flared. It was as if he was trying to make a decision. What was more important to him? Avenging the wrong his father had inflicted on their family or doing what he knew his mother would have wanted. Seven years ago, there would have been no debate. Neal would have done anything to make his mother happy and proud of him. The night he had left their 5th Avenue penthouse, a backpack slung over his shoulder, tears had streamed down his face at the thought of never seeing his mother again.

But seven years was a long time. Seven years on the street changes an innocent sixteen-year-old boy consumed by his father's betrayal into an unrecognisable twenty-three-year-old man twisted by hate. His heart had hardened, his moral compass had shifted, any hope he had ever had of being reunited with his family again had long since gone. He wanted one thing and one thing only. Revenge.

"She doesn't deserve this, no," Neal said at last. "But I do. I deserve the chance to look into your eyes at the moment I pull the trigger and watch that flicker of realisation as you realise I am the man you never could be."

"Neal, killing me doesn't make you a man," Mr Gold said, his heart beat racing faster than ever.

"Cheating on your wife doesn't make you one either," Neal said, his eyes blazing with anger.

Mr Gold could tell the young man before him was becoming agitated and prayed he wouldn't goad him further. "Neal, what I did to your mother is my biggest regret. I know it doesn't make me a man. It makes me a coward."

"A coward? How so?" Neal asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I … I knew when I met Belle what I felt for her. I could had gone about all of this in a way that was much less painful for everyone involved."

"So," Neal rubbed a hand over his face before readjusting his grip on the rifle, "let me get this straight. You're saying that you don't regret the affair. Instead, you regret not asking Mom for a divorce before you fucked your secretary? Is that really the argument you're going with here?"

The gun pressed even harder against his sternum and Mr Gold wheezed before answering. "It's an ugly truth but yes. I wanted to marry Belle."

"Clearly," Neal said, reaching for the ring box which was still open between them and throwing it at his father. It bounced off the man's shoulder, the platinum band springing free from the cushion and disappearing under the desk. "Were you planning on being a bigamist, Dad?"

"No," Mr Gold said. "I was planning on asking your mother for a divorce."

Neal let out a huff of laughter. "Are you fucking kidding me? So why are you still together? Why didn't you let her go after she found out so you and Belle could have your happily ever after and me and Mom could have had a happy life without cheating dickheads in it?"

"Are you angry at me or your mother?" Mr Gold asked suddenly.

"I – what? Why would I be angry at Mom?"

"For forgiving me. For taking me back. It's clear you haven't forgiven me but Milah has. She loves me, Neal. And I love her."

"Just not as much as you love Belle," he sneered.

"It's different," Mr Gold sighed.

"Whatever," Neal said, finger flexing against the trigger. "Enough talking. I came here to do something and I'm going to see it through."

"Ok," Mr Gold said. "If that's what you really want."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax his body. The barrel of the gun was still poking into his chest. If the trigger was pulled, there would be no way to survive his injuries. He imagined the searing pain which would spread from the point at which the bullet entered him, tearing through his flesh and piercing his heart. How long would it take him to bleed out? Would Neal stand and watch until his was dead? Or would he be left to die alone? In that moment, Robert realised he didn't know which ending was worse.

And then, quite suddenly, the pressure disappeared. He opened his eyes to see his son walking from the room, rifle swung over his shoulder.

* * *

"What do you think they're talking about?" Regina asked quietly, the two women staring back down the corridor, off which they knew Neal and Mr Gold were locked in an uneven stand off.

"The affair, I'd guess," Emma shrugged. "How would you feel if your dad cheated on your mom?"

"Daddy would never do that," Regina said at once.

"Of course," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "Not perfect 'Daddy'."

Regina ignored the sarcasm and continued to watch the doorway, through which she suspected Mr Gold was pleading for his life with his own son. She could not imagine feeling such anger towards either of her parents. She knew she was lucky to have such a loving family. Neal and Emma were living proof that not everyone was blessed with something she had always taken for granted. Her parents supported her in everything she did. Not just financially but emotionally as well. She was going to need them more than ever when this ordeal was over. If the ordeal was ever over.

"Emma, you … you won't let Neal take me, will you?" Regina asked quietly.

The blonde looked down at the shorter woman whose face was upturned towards her own. "He won't hurt you," Emma replied.

"Promise?"

"I promise," Emma nodded, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. In truth, she knew she couldn't make such a promise. Neal was becoming increasingly unpredictable and Emma didn't trust him. She knew, however, that she would do everything in her power to protect Regina.

The brunette's wide chocolate eyes scanned Emma's face for a few seconds. Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something. Emma's gaze darted, unbidden, to the plump red lips which, even with the deep gouge through them, looked thoroughly kissable. But before Regina could say anything, movement at the end of the corridor caught their attention.

Neal was striding towards them, his face dark. As he passed the doorway into the main area of the bank he called out, "P, L, come here," before carrying on until he reached Emma and Regina. The brunette moved minutely closer to the younger teen.

"What happened?" Emma asked. She hadn't heard a rifle shot but she had felt sure the man's intentions had been to kill his father.

"Nothing, let's go," Neal said as Peter and Lily appeared behind them, both still wearing their masks.

"Wait, we're just going to walk out into the alley?" Peter asked, alarmed.

"No, don't be stupid. Regina's going to help us, aren't you, Princess?"

"Am I?" Regina frowned.

"Yes, you're going to act as our pretty little shield so the big bad cops don't shoot at us, ok? We'll walk out to the car one at a time, holding Regina nice and close and then we'll drive off. Simple."

"And what makes you think I'm going to help you?" Regina asked, levelling Neal with a challenging gaze.

"Because, Princess, if you don't, Emma's going to be in a bit of a pickle, isn't she? Even if you're not a dyke, I can tell you like her so I don't think you'll do anything that might lead to Emma getting shot by one of those very talented NYPD snipers your daddy has in place around here, right?"

Emma's fingers, which were still wrapped around Regina's slender bicep, tightened as Neal talked. She had known Neal wanted to use Regina to help them escape but it still shocked her to hear how he was so carelessly going to use her body to protect his own.

"Understand?" Neal asked, turning to Peter and Lily. "I'll go first. You've gotta keep a real tight grip on her and make sure your head is up nice and close to hers. That way the snipers can't take a shot without risking killing her instead of us."

Lily nodded once. Peter's eyes were wide through his ski mask but he too nodded. Neal grinned and pulled his ski mask from his pocket. Even if the cops knew who he was, he didn't want to make their job too easy. He tugged the wool back in place and stepped towards Regina. Emma didn't move.

"Ems, come on. I'm not gonna hurt her. We're all getting out of here together, ok? I just need to borrow your girlfriend for thirty seconds. I promise she'll be back in no time."

Still, the blonde's hand remained on Regina's arm. "Emma, it's ok," Regina said quietly. "I'll go with him."

Green eyes bore into brown for a moment before Emma nodded and released her grip, sliding her fingers down the length of Regina's arm as she dropped her hand. Just before the contact between them was broken, Emma curled her pinkie finger around Regina's, a silent promise.

As soon as Emma stepped away, Neal moved forwards. Using the strap, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and turned Regina around so her back was to his front. He untied the twine at last and Regina whimpered as her aching wrists were free once more. She flexed her fingers, trying to restore the limited blood flow. Neal handed the thin rope back to Emma with a wink. The blonde took it, feeling the vague warmth of Regina's skin trapped in the fibres.

"Pick up a sack," Neal instructed. Regina did so, using both hands to hold the heavy bag. Neal stepped up behind her again and wrapped his left arm around her neck. From the waistband of his pants, he pulled a small pistol which he held up to Regina's temple.

"It's alright, Princess," Neal said when she felt her body tremble against him. "It's just for show. If I'm shooting anyone, it'll be the cops, ok?"

That statement did little to calm Regina down. Neal stepped forwards, forcing Regina to move too as his leg knocked against her knee. Under any other circumstances, Neal mused, he'd be rather enjoying himself but in that moment, he was focused on getting out of the bank and to the car alive. Just before he reached the emergency exit door, he turned back.

"Do exactly what I am doing, ok?" Neal said. "Once I'm in the car, I'll send Regina back to get Emma then P. L, you'll be last. Don't want this one here trying to do anything stupid and as long as one or other of you are with me, I think you'll be good little girls, right? If you even think about bailing on me once I've left, you'll be sealing your own death warrants, ok? If they take me out, they'll come into the bank guns blazing and none of you will survive. Not even you, Regina. Got that? Emma, I don't think you want that on your conscience, do you?"

Neither Emma nor Regina spoke. Peter and Lily exchanged a glance. They hadn't, until then, witnessed the connection between the two women but now they could see it for themselves. It was obvious that Neal was right. As long as Regina and Emma weren't together, they would do as they were told until they were reunited.

"When I open the door, stay back. They'll have snipers aimed right for us and if they get a chance to shoot you guys while I'm heading for the car, they will. Emma, P and L, you'll be in the back. And Regina, you lucky thing, you'll be riding up front with me, ok?"

"Where are we going, Neal?" Regina asked.

Neal turned to Emma. "You really didn't tell her? Wow, maybe you're not as pussy whipped as I thought you were. Well, Princess, I will tell you. Or, rather, you'll tell me. But let's get the first task out of the way and get into the car without one of us taking a bullet to the head before we move onto the destination of our fun little road trip. Everyone ready?"

Peter, Lily and Emma nodded. There was nothing else for them to do. Regina didn't move a muscle. Neal turned back to the door and raised his foot to kick open the emergency exit bar. The light from the alley burst into the dark corridor and Regina squinted against the brightness. Vaguely, she could hear shouts from outside. The police, no doubt, poised and ready to shoot. But before her brain could register what they were saying, Neal was nudging her in the back and forcing her to walk forwards.

Just before she entered the alley, Regina turned one last time to meet Emma's piercing green gaze. And then she stepped outside.

* * *

A/N: I promise you the cliff hangers are going to lessen for the second half of the story. Once the hostage situation is resolved (and it will be), I will try not to be so infuriating.


	12. The Departure

A/N: The cliff hangers will end eventually, I promise …

* * *

"They're coming out!"

As soon as the yelled words reached the ears of the Lieutenant, he sprang to his feet. Henry, Cora and Zelena did the same.

"Stay here," Killian said to the civilians before he and Sidney rushed to the door of the HNT truck and scanned the front of the bank. Nothing had changed.

"The alley," called one of the snipers who was beckoning them over to where he was perched on top of another police truck, his partner lying flat against the roof.

The two men sprinted over and climbed up the attached ladder to get a clear view of what was happening. Behind them, Henry, Cora and Zelena were being held back by Killian's detectives as they tried to follow. Once they had climbed up to the roof of the truck, the two men shuffled forwards.

"What's going on?" Killian asked the man who had called him over who was crouched behind a second sniper. The latter's gaze was focused down the scope of her gun and didn't shift despite the new arrivals.

"One of them came out," the officer's partner said. "Masked. He's got Miss Mills. He's holding a gun on her. We can't get a shot. She's too close."

Killian and Sidney both looked towards the alley where the black car gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Sure enough, two figures were moving slowly towards it. From a distance, it was hard to say but he suspected that the captor was about five ten, medium build. Regina looked tiny, pressed against his body as they shuffled forwards. She was carrying something. A bag. Cash and jewellery, Killian was sure. The four police officers watched, holding their breath, as they reached the car.

The driver's door was wrenched open and the bag was thrown inside by Regina. Then the duo turned so that the captor's back was to the vehicle. Killian grabbed his radio. "Hold your fire. I repeat. Hold your fire." There was no telling what the rest of the group had been instructed to do if one of them was taken out.

The man climbed awkwardly into the car, keeping his head as close to Regina's as possible. And then suddenly she was pushed away as the door was slammed closed. Regina stumbled and almost fell at the force but managed to catch herself. Killian saw her glance up and down the alley in either direction.

"Come on," Sidney muttered under his breath. "Come to us. Run. Come on, Regina."

But then she straightened up and walked back to the fire escape, which was ajar, and disappeared into the bank. Killian and Sidney glanced at one another. "Why didn't she run?" Sidney asked.

Killian shrugged. "I'd guess they have other hostages inside and they threatened to harm them if she didn't obey. She might have been able to save herself but it seems Miss Mills feels obligated to someone inside. Neal mentioned a kid. I'd suspect that was what we were looking at."

All four police officers' eyes returned to the fire exit, waiting.

* * *

Emma stood as close to the open door as she dared, staring out at the bonnet of the black car she could see parked in the alley. Come back, she prayed. Come back in. She didn't look at Peter or Lily. She knew they must be curious about what was between her and Regina. She was curious herself. But in that moment she didn't care about anything except Regina returning.

It felt like an age but in reality was barely a minute when at last Regina's silhouette appeared in the doorframe. Emma let out a sigh of relief as the woman walked back inside the bank.

"Are you ok?" Emma asked as Regina came towards her.

"Yes," Regina nodded. "There are cops everywhere out there. They are all pointing guns right into the alley."

"But Neal got in the car ok?"

"Yeah," Regina replied. "And he told me that if we think of bailing on him, he'll shoot at as many cops as he can and make sure they storm the bank. I believe him, Emma, so if you were thinking of doing anything except what he told us, I don't think we should."

In truth, Emma had been pondering just slamming the door shut once Regina got back and surrendering to the cops. But she knew Neal would follow through on his threat and she also knew that if the police took fire from Neal, the counter-offensive would be lethal for all of them.

"Alright, come on then," she said, knowing there was no other option. At least this way she was keeping Regina safe. Or safer.

Emma stepped forwards and Regina turned around, imitating the position she had been in with Neal. She picked up a second bag of cash, wondering how much money she was carrying as she did so. Just as Emma went to wrap her arm around Regina's neck, the brunette turned her head. Emma hitched as she felt the puff of warm breath ghost over her lips. Her eyes locked on the red gash now inches from her own mouth. An overwhelming urge to kiss it better came over her but before she could do anything, Regina spoke.

"You should put your mask on."

It took Emma a moment to register the words. Eventually, she swallowed and nodded. "Right."

Stepping back, she dug in her pocket and pulled out her ski mask, sliding it over her head. Regina watched as the beautiful features were covered up until all she could see were those bright green eyes. "Better?"

Somehow, Regina could tell that Emma was smirking at her from beneath the wool. "No, to be honest," Regina murmured. "But for your safety, yes."

Why they were pretending that this escape plan was going to actually work, Emma wasn't sure but in that moment she was grateful. She moved towards Regina once more, the brunette turning to face the door again. Emma wrapped her arm around Regina's neck and stepped as close as she could to her body. The hitch in Regina's breath was unmistakable as she felt Emma press against her. Through the younger woman's heavy black hoodie, she could feel the swell of her breasts pressed against her shoulder blades.

And then the blonde began to move forwards, lowering her head slightly so it was closer to Regina's. Emma didn't want to put the brunette in danger by offering the snipers a chance to take herself out. What if they missed? She couldn't bear to think of a bullet flying past her own head and striking the brunette's.

Regina felt a vaguely familiar heat coil low in her body as Emma's warm breath, even through her woollen mask, washed over her earlobe. She had felt like this before, a few times, with Daniel. She suddenly realised that she hadn't thought about the boy she had been dating since the whole hostage ordeal had begun. Was that strange? Was it as strange as the way her body was reacting to Emma right now? No, she thought to herself. There was nothing strange about the way she felt about the blonde. Of everything that had happened that day, the one thing that made sense, in some twisted way, was Emma.

"Ready," Emma asked as they began to walk slowly towards the door.

"Yes," Regina said, turning her head slightly so that her ear bumped into Emma's wool-covered nose. "Hold your gun up to my head."

Emma's step faltered at the words. "Regina, I -"

"Not now, Emma," the brunette whispered. "Just do it. I know you're not going to hurt me. Let's get you out of here safely, ok? Stay close to me."

"I'm not going anywhere," Emma said, her arm tightening around Regina's neck but careful not to put any pressure on her larynx. Her other hand slowly raised the weapon as Regina had commanded. Regina, the woman whom Emma had just met who had no idea that the gun wasn't even loaded.

They moved slowly, as Neal had done, out into the alley. Emma couldn't help glance around as they shuffled forwards. She could see police everywhere and she was sure more officers were hidden out of sight. Her heart thundered in her ribcage and she was sure Regina could feel it. The words which were whispered next confirmed her suspicions.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Regina murmured. "I promise."

"Didn't I promise you that?" Emma quipped.

"Well, save your promise for when my life is in danger. Right now, I can protect you. When the time comes, how about you return the favour?"

"Deal," Emma said, reaching out and opening the rear door of the car they had reached.

Regina threw the bag of cash inside, ignoring Neal who, unmasked once more, was leering at them from the driver's seat. Then they slowly turned on the spot so Emma could climb into the seat. She knew there was nothing else she could do but she hesitated nonetheless.

"Go on," Regina whispered. "I'll be ok."

"I'll be waiting," Emma replied, the hot breath on Regina's ear once again sending a spike or arousal through the brunette's body.

And then her arm unwound and she launched herself backwards into the car. Regina turned and slammed the door shut, eyes locked once more on Emma's before the blacked out window broke their connection.

Neal slow clapped as Emma straightened up and slid over to sit behind the passenger seat which she knew Regina would soon occupy. "Fuck off," she snarled at him, looking out of the window and watching as Regina returned to the bank to perform her third of four trips.

* * *

"What is she doing?" Sidney asked as he and Killian, still on top of the police truck, watched as Regina came out with a third hostage taker clinging to her, yet another gun pointed to her head.

"I have no idea but she's clearly doing whatever they tell her. We've got cops in position to follow once they move, right?" Killian asked the question into his radio. A crackled affirmative response came through seconds later.

"Assuming they leave with only Regina, we need to get into the bank as soon as possible. Are the team in position to breach?" Killian asked again into his radio.

"Yes, Lieutenant. Just say the word," came the reply.

"Hold off for now," Killian said. "But you should be able to breach in a few minutes. As soon as you do so, secure the area so EMTs can get in. We know we have at least one gunshot victim. From the main area, go through to the bank manager's office. Back corridor, turn left. Get your techs into the security system and get the cameras up and running, just in case."

"Copy Lieu."

Killian dropped his radio back to his shoulder where it was clipped and returned his full attention to the scene before him. The third hostage taker was now climbing into the car and, once again, Regina was returning to the bank.

"How many are there?" Sidney murmured as Regina disappeared inside.

"I spoke to three hostages on the phone. I'm guessing there's, yep, at least four," he said as another masked figure emerged with Regina, yet another bag of money clasped by the brunette.

The two snipers, the Lieutenant and the Police Commissioner watched as Regina repeated her now practiced routine. This time, however, after the door slammed shut, she did not return to the bank. Instead, she walked around the back of the car towards the passenger door.

"What is she doing?" Sidney asked again. "Why is she getting in with them? If that's the whole crew and they don't have a kid hostage, why is she going with them?"

Killian said nothing. He didn't have an answer for that question. He just watched as the petite brunette walked around the car and opened the door. For a moment, she glanced back in their direction, as if she could feel their eyes boring into her back. And then she turned and climbed into the car. In the silence which had fallen across the area, the clunk of the door shutting sounded magnified.

"What the fuck is -"

The engine roared to life, a guttural rumble echoing off the alley walls.

"Squad cars, get ready to pursue but keep back," Killian said into his radio. "Civilian hostage inside. I repeat. Civilian hostage in the car. Do not shoot. Do not engage. Follow at a distance and try to avoid a high speed pursuit if possible."

Killian glanced at Sidney who nodded.

"Snipers," he said into his radio once more. "Does anyone have a clear shot of the driver?"

"Negative," came a chorus of voices. "He's got a gun on the hostage again," one added.

"Fuck," Sidney muttered. "What is his plan?"

Killian said nothing. He had no answer to that question but he wished he did. Glancing over Sidney's back, he spotted Henry and Cora Mills, the latter stood with her arm around Zelena's shoulder outside the HNT truck. How was he supposed to explain this to Regina's family? Turning back to the alley, the car began to move.

"Breach team, you are clear to engage," Killian said, reminding himself that there were seventeen more hostages who, it appeared, were now free.

As the car turned right out of the alleyway, the shattering of glass as the battering ram collided with the bank door tinkled across the quiet street to the top of the police truck.

"Come on," Sidney said. "Let's see what we're looking at inside. They're not going to get far with a fleet of cops on their tail."

* * *

A/N: disclaimer; if anyone tries to rob a bank to try and find true love, I do not condone that …


	13. The Drive

A/N: Happy Sunday. I'm seriously sorry about the cliff hangers – I'm not using them as a tactic to keep you reading but since I'm writing a hostage situation, the only way to ensure there isn't a cliff hanger would be to write the whole fic in one go and even I'm not that fast of a typist! We're about 2 chapters from the end of the life threatening tension, if that helps ...

* * *

Emma held her breath as the car moved off, a cloud of dust kicked into the air as Neal accelerated. She peered up through the dark glass and saw the barrels of guns sweeping through the air, tracking the car's movement as they drove down the alley. Were the police really going to let them drive away? If they were, what was going to happen next? And if they weren't …

She turned to look forwards as they reached the end of the alley. Neal's right arm was extended towards Regina, the pistol pointed towards the young woman's head. Emma felt a surge of anger at the sight. With one hand on the wheel, Neal expertly swung the vehicle out into the street. It was deserted. It was clear that all traffic had been halted.

Peter and Lily were mute beside Emma, both of them clutching a sack of money in their laps. Neal's and Emma's bags were stuffed between the front seats and their legs. Neither cared about the money any more. Neal had confronted his father; his main reason for the bank robbery. And Emma, well, Emma found her priorities shifting towards getting herself and Regina out of the situation alive. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

The seat and headrest blocked Emma's view of the brunette but she gazed at it nevertheless as they began to drive down the empty street. Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to the small gap between the seat and the side of the car. Regina's hand had appeared, her pinkie finger curling and uncurling slowly. At once, Emma reached her own hand out and interlaced them. Regina's finger tightened instantly at the contact.

"Fucking cops," Neal muttered, making Emma jump and pull her hand away. Regina left hers where it was but Emma could see a vague tremble in the limb.

"Where?" Peter asked, peering through the windscreen.

"Behind," Neal said, gruffly.

Emma, Peter and Lily all turned to look over their shoulders. Sure enough, several dark cars were now following them down the road.

"What do we do?" Peter asked, nerves apparent in his tone.

"We drive," Neal said.

"Where to?"

It was the first time Lily had spoken since she had shot the man inside the bank. There was no emotion in her words, however. Emma leaned forwards and looked past Peter to see that her friend had removed her ski mask. Realising she could do the same, Emma tugged the wool from her head once more.

"Regina's going to tell us that, aren't you Princess?" Neal said, leering sideways at the brunette.

"Am I?" Regina asked.

"Yeah, you are," Neal nodded. "Now, tell me, where does Daddy keep his jet?"

Regina turned to look at the man beside her, but found herself staring down the barrel of the pistol as she did so. She swallowed. Even though it was apparent that Neal needed her, she still didn't trust him not to shoot her. Leaning forwards slightly, she looked past the weapon into the grinning face of her captor.

"You want me to take you to my family jet?"

"Well, think of it as taking Emma, if you'd prefer," Neal chuckled. "Imagine you two are heading off to some tropical island together for a week of hot lesbian sex. Does that help you tell me where I'm driving us?"

"Not really," Regina said, lips pursed. Behind her, Emma sank back into the seat, deflated. Did that mean Regina wasn't interested in her? Of course she's not interested in you, a voice said in the back of Emma's head. You're part of a team of criminals holding her hostage at gunpoint.

"Ok, so how about you tell me and I promise not to kill you," Neal said, mood souring at once.

"Neal," Emma said sharply.

"No, Emma, it's fine," Regina said. "He's not going to kill me. He just said he needs me, right? If you killed me, Neal, you'd never know which airfield we keep our jet in and you'd end up in prison for the rest of your life."

"As would Emma," Neal shot back. "Tell me where I'm fucking driving us to, Princess, or I swear to God." At that, he flexed his finger around the trigger, adjusting his grip.

"Regina, tell him," Emma said, panic in her tone.

Loathe as Regina was to give in to blackmail, the gun which was pointed squarely in the middle of the forehead was enough to persuade her to give into the demand.

"Fine," she huffed, "Teterboro Airport."

Neal grinned. "Nice job, Regina. That's only a thirty-minute drive. I assume your family has a pilot on standby?"

"Yes," Regina said through gritted teeth. "But you have to call her to let her know. It's not like she lives in the hangar."

"Then call her."

"I can't. Emma broke both of my phones."

At that news, Neal turned in his seat and raised his eyebrows. "Oh really? And why was that? Did she see a text from your girlfriend and get jealous, I wonder?"

"Fuck off, Neal," Emma snapped, praying that Neal wouldn't probe into why she had smashed Regina's phone and force her to reveal the 911 call the brunette had made.

"Or was it a boyfriend? Is that what pissed you off, Emma. Did you realise your crush was straight? Such a cliché, right? Dyke falls for the straight chick."

Emma said nothing. She turned away from Neal and looked out of the window. Her refusal to allow her gaze to wander anywhere else meant she missed Regina's pinkie finger curling again, the brunette's hand still hanging down between the seat and side of the car.

Neal chuckled at Emma's reaction as he turned his attention back to the road. The traffic had picked up as the police hadn't closed off every street in Manhattan. But it didn't matter. The cops didn't know where they were going and even if they knew, Regina's presence meant they were safe.

"Fine, so how do we get in touch with this pilot?"

"Funnily enough, I haven't got her number memorised," Regina replied sarcastically.

Neal scowled at the tone. "Peter," he'd give up on using their code names by now, "in one of those sacks is cell phone I took from one of the tellers. There's no passcode. Do a search for Teterboro Airport and call them, then pass the phone to Regina."

Peter obeyed and began to root around first in his sack, then the one in front of him, searching for the phone. In the third sack, he found what he was looking for. Opening the cell up, he did as Neal instructed while the man himself relayed instructions to Regina.

"Ask whoever answers to contact your pilot for you. Tell her you need her at the hangar as fast as possible. Tell her you and your friends are going to … how far can your jet take us?"

"Far enough, I'd guess," Regina said.

"Can it cross the Atlantic?"

"We've flown to London before," Regina replied slowly.

"Yeah but the UK has an extradition treaty with us. Although Europe might not be a bad call. At least until we can get further. Ok, Europe … Europe, Europe, Europe," Neal said, as if running through a list of countries in his mind. "Oh what about Croatia? We went there on a family vacation once. Beautiful. Yep, tell her you and some friends are taking a trip to Croatia. Peter, put it on speaker phone. We don't want Regina giving away all our secrets," Neal added with a smarmy wink.

Peter did as he was told and held the phone out towards their hostage. Emma held her breath again as the sound of the call ringing filled the car.

* * *

Climbing down from the top of the truck, Killian and Sidney hurried across the street and into the bank after the first wave of armed police had entered. By the time they reached the cool interior, most of the hostages were already freed and being ushered out. Killian paused and took in the scene.

Broken glass crunched around him as the hostages passed by, each with an officer guiding them. He could see the small boy whom Neal had mentioned, sobbing and clutching his mother. And then his eyes landed on a man laying on the floor. He strode over to the paramedic team who were kneeling beside him.

"Well?" he asked as he reached them.

The female paramedic shook her head. "He's gone," she said, withdrawing her fingers from the man's neck where she had been feeling for a pulse.

"Looks like the bullet nicked the femoral artery," added her partner as he leaned over the wound and peeled back the shredded fabric. "Bled out slowly though."

"Damn," Killian muttered quietly. "Would he have made it with medical attention earlier?"

"Probably," the woman said as she and her partner prepared to move the man onto the stretcher. His body would be taken to the morgue where a full autopsy would be performed. "He's not been dead long. It's hard to give an exact time but if he's been lying here for an hour, I'd guess he could have been saved."

Killian gazed down into the pale face of the victim. He was young, Killian noted. Maybe thirty. The navy blue suit looked high end, the silk tie still perfectly in place. Letting out a low sigh, he nodded once more and moved away, further into the bank. There was another hostage he needed to find. But before he could get to the back corridor, two police officers arrived before him, with a short man cradled between them.

"Mr Gold?" he asked, rushing forwards and taking in the man's bloodied forehead.

"Yes," Mr Gold replied. "Is everyone ok? Is Regina ok? Where is she? Where's Neal?"

If Killian needed any clarification about whether the team's ringleader was Mr Gold's son, he had just received it. The look in the man's small dark eyes was one of a despaired, heart-broken father. Killian wondered how he would feel if Alice, his three-year-old daughter, ever held him at gunpoint and terrorised his place of work. It didn't even bear thinking about.

"Let's get you checked out by a paramedic first and then I'll fill you in," Killian said, guiding the trio forwards to the bank entrance. "I'm Lieutenant Killian Rogers and I've been running point on the hostage negotiations this afternoon."

As they walked, Mr Gold scanned the large atrium of his bank, knowing he'd never be able to look at the beautiful space in the same way again. And then his eyes fell to the stretcher which was being carried out by the paramedics.

"Is that from the gunshot victim they talked about?" he asked, spotting the coagulated pool of blood, now smeared slightly across the previously pristine marble tiles, in the centre of his bank.

"Yes," Killian nodded briskly.

"Did he make it?"

There was a pause and then; "no."

Mr Gold asked no more questions and followed the Lieutenant out of the bank. As they reached the afternoon sunlit sidewalk, Sidney joined them.

"Robert, are you ok?" he asked.

"Sidney," Robert said, a weak smile on his face. "Is Henry here? Where's Regina?"

"They took her with them. But everyone else is out now."

"A man died, Sidney," the bank manager said as he was guided to the back of an ambulance and told to sit down. "A man died."

"I know," Sidney said.

Killian stepped back, as did the other officers, leaving Sidney beside his friend and two paramedics to work on the injured man. He planned to wait until Mr Gold received the all clear and then talk to him but before just as one paramedic began cleaning the head wound, the radio strapped to Killian's chest crackled and summoned him to the HNT truck.

"Go," Sidney said. "I'll speak to Robert."

Nodding once, Killian made his way across the street. While the area had been frozen for almost an hour, everyone poised in position, it was now swarming with activity. He dodged and weaved between ambulances and police cars, paramedics, police officers and hostages moving everywhere. A few family members had also caught wind of the event and fought their way to the front of the crowd, desperate to be reunited with their loved ones.

Entering the HNT truck, he was surprised to see Henry and Cora Mills sitting almost obediently. He had expected the two of them to have been fighting tooth and nail with the detective Killian had assigned to keep them out of harms way. Zelena was pacing back and forth, her long red hair frazzled from how many times her worried fingers had combed the strands.

"Lieutenant," Henry said as soon as Killian appeared. "Our pilot just called. Apparently Regina requested her come to our jet. She said she and some friends wanted to fly to Croatia. Mal wanted to check with us first since Regina never takes our jet abroad without prior notice."

"Your jet," Killian murmured. "Of course."

How had he not thought of that? Holding Regina hostage had ensured that Neal and his crew had a built in escape plan. The private jet needed no passports and as long as Regina was on board, they would be safe. All they needed to do was get to a non-extradition country and they would be free. Croatia, Killian knew, had no such treaty.

"Which airport?"

"Teterboro," Cora replied.

"And your pilot, Mal, where is she?"

"She lives in Ridgefield Park. It takes her ten minutes to get to the airfield but she's waiting at home until we tell her what you said."

"Do you have a photo of her?" Killian asked.

"Um, yes, I think so," Cora nodded, pulling out her cell. "Why?"

"Because I'm not going to send another civilian into this mess. We'll get a police officer who looks similar to stand in."

"But they won't be able to fly the jet," Henry said. "You can't let my baby girl get on a plane without a qualified pilot inside."

"Mr Mills," Killian said sincerely, "I have no intention of letting this plane take off and the best way to do that is to have police officers on the inside. We'll wire them up with audio and visual so we'll know what is happening. Does Mal fly with a co-pilot?"

"Yes, her girlfriend Ursula," Cora replied.

"I'll need a photo of her too. Hopefully Regina will go along with the replacements we'll have in place by the time she arrives. Call Mal back and tell her not to go but tell her not to contact Regina."

Henry nodded and reached for his phone to call his pilot. Cora looped her arm through his as she scrolled through her photos looking for a snap of their pilot and co-pilot.

Killian's detective made her way over to him. "What next, Lieu?" she asked.

"I'll call the airfield and put everyone there on alert. I'll also get the New Jersey state police on site. They'll need to put two women in place to act as the pilots. We've got about twenty minutes until they arrive, traffic dependent. Now we know where they're going, our tail can hang back, make Neal think he's lost us. We're going to have to drive up there too. Get a squad car ready. You and I will go alone. Sidney can stay with the Mills'. And find out what number they called the pilot from. I want to try and talk to them before they reach the jet."

Nodding her head, the detective ducked out of the truck to secure her and Killian a squad car while the Lieutenant himself began relaying the information they had to the necessary police precincts. Once he had a photo from Cora, he put through the call for two undercover police officers, a tall slender blonde and a shorter African-American woman, to make their way to the aircraft hangar to be debriefed by himself over the phone.

* * *

They drove on in silence as they crossed the Hudson River and made it off the island of Manhattan. Despite herself, Emma let out a little sigh of relief. She knew their escape was by no means complete but she was surprised they had got as far as they had. Craning to see over her shoulder, she spotted several unmarked police cars still driving behind them, now separated by regular traffic.

"Left here," Regina said quietly as they came to an intersection.

As they turned onto the road Regina had indicated, Neal began to whistle tunelessly. He had also, mercifully, lowered the gun which had been pointing to Regina's head. Once the call had been made to the pilot, Neal had seemed satisfied and placed the weapon in his lap, two hands now on the steering wheel.

Peter's knee was jiggling up and down nervously against Emma's. The relentless movement was irritating and did nothing for Emma's own nerves so she shifted away in her seat. In doing so, she glanced down and saw Regina's hand still hanging limply beside the chair. Without thinking, Emma reached out and interlaced their pinkies once more. The brunette startled at the sudden contact but as soon as she realised it was Emma, she curled her smallest finger into the crook of Emma's.

"Neal," Peter said after another five minutes of driving, "what's the plan?"

"I told you, Peter," Neal said, glancing in his rear view mirror and grinning at the pale young man he saw. Peter had also removed his ski mask. "We're going to go on a nice holiday with Regina here to Croatia. Have you ever been to Croatia, Peter?"

The boy, for that was what Peter was really, didn't answer. Of course he hadn't been to Croatia. He had never been out of the United States.

"Then what?" Lily piped up.

"Then, my little lily pad," Neal said, chuckling at the nickname he had just made up, "we're going to live a life of luxury with all this money on the Adriatic Coast. How does that sound?"

"Fantastical," Lily muttered, turning to stare out of the window, as if resigned to the fact that it was her last opportunity for a long time for her to see anything other than the four walls of a cell.

"Neal," Regina said quietly. "Do you really think this is going to work? My parents are not just going to let me get on a plane and fly away."

"They don't have a choice, Princess," Neal said, swinging the car right as he spotted a sign for the airport. "As long as you're with us and your life is in danger," Emma's finger tightened against Regina's, "they're not going to dare make a move against us."

Regina had to admit that the man was probably right. She knew that as long as she was being held hostage, the police couldn't intervene. And once they were on the private jet, her pilot wasn't going to risk her life, nor the lives of her girlfriend or their passengers. If they got into the air, they would touch down in Croatia. Then what?

Turning to her right slowly, Regina looked behind her. Emma's eyes, as wide and green as ever, locked on her own. It'll be ok, she mouthed, a forced smile on her face. Regina drew her bottom lip between her teeth, doubtful. And, Emma swallowed, sexy. The blonde shifted her hand so that the back of her fingers grazed over Regina's palm, more silent reassurance.

Internally, however, Emma's stomach was doing somersaults. She had no idea whether or not it would be ok. The longer this took, the worse it got for them. She wanted it to be over. One way or the other. Either soaring high over the Atlantic or surrendering to the police. She'd be happy with both options. As long as it was over and Regina was safe.

The chiming of a cell phone filled the quiet car. Neal picked up the stolen device, unwound his window and threw it out. The noise faded instantly.

"I don't think we need to talk to the police any more, do you?" Neal offered in response to the unasked questions which filled the car. "Anyway, look, we're here."

Neal steered the car into the gateway which led to the airfield. Looking behind her, Emma realised there were no police cars in sight. Had they really lost them? A security guard came out of the hut and approached the car. Sliding the gun from his lap down to between his seat and Regina's, Neal muttered his instructions to the brunette.

"Good afternoon, Sir," the guard said as the window was wound down. "Do you have your pass as your vehicle isn't registered in our system."

"Hi Bernie, it's me," Regina said, leaning over slightly so the security guard could see her and smiling widely. Emma marvelled briefly at the woman's acting abilities with a pistol pointed at her side.

"Oh, Miss Mills," Bernie spluttered. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I'll let you right in."

He hurried back into the guard booth and released the barrier. Neal smirked at Regina. "Oh to be hot and rich, eh?" he said as the barrier rose before them.

As they drove through, Emma watched the guard. The man's eyes followed the vehicle and as soon as they were on the airfield, Emma saw him lift a phone to his ear. Her gut clenched. Something wasn't right.

"Neal," Emma said quietly as they drove forwards. "This is a bad idea. We should give ourselves up."

The man laughed. "Yeah right, good one Ems. Look around you. There's no one here. We're home free."

Indeed, the airfield was empty but that didn't fill Emma with confidence. In fact, a sense of foreboding bubbled inside her. Regina too felt even more nervous. She had never seen the airport this quiet, especially not on a Friday afternoon. Something wasn't right.

"Where to, Princess?" Neal asked as they reached the main strip along which the jets were parked.

Regina scanned the line of privately owned aircraft. It had been a few months since she had used the family jet. "There," she said at last, pointing to the familiar tail number.

Neal followed her finger and drove slowly behind the huge machines. As they reached the Mills' aircraft, a tall woman with long blonde hair, dressed in a navy suit walked towards the road to greet them.

"Is that your pilot?" Neal asked.

Squinting through the windscreen, Regina took in the woman ahead of them. "Yes," she nodded, after a moment.

"She's hot. Once we get it on auto-pilot, reckon she'll be up for joining the mile-high club?"

"I have no doubt she's already a member," Regina quipped. "Her girlfriend is the co-pilot back there." She pointed to a second woman dressed in the same uniform who was stood at the bottom of the narrow flight of stairs leading up into the plane.

"Ooh, mile-high threesome," Neal grinned. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

Regina narrowed her eyes at the man as they drew up beside the jet, the car dwarfed by the size of the aircraft.

With the engine cut off, Neal looked around carefully. The place was deserted except for the two pilots. Turning to the back seat, he smiled at the trio behind him. Emma and Peter looked apprehensively back at him. Lily had put her mask back on; her cool eyes through the narrow slit in her mask gave away nothing.

"Ready for a holiday?" he asked.

"Neal," Emma said. "Something is going on. There's no way the cops would allow us to bring Regina here and not try and stop us."

"Can you see any cops Emma?" Neal asked, stretching his hands wide, one of them still holding the pistol.

"No but -"

"We'll do the same as before," Neal interrupted. "One at a time, we're going to get onto the plane with Regina. Now, let me think of the best order. Of course, I don't want you and Regina alone, do I, Emma? Lily, you go first, I think. But before we do that, Regina, tell the pilots to get on board. Lily, I need you to hold them at gunpoint once you're on. That way we'll be sure that Regina won't do anything stupid."

Without waiting for a reply, Neal rolled down his window and stuck his arm out, beckoning the pilot over. Turning to Regina, Neal waggled the gun which was pressed against the brunette's side. Regina gritted her teeth but nodded just as the blonde woman appeared at the window.

"Um, hi … Mal," Regina said. "Can you and Ursula please go ahead and board. My friends and I will just be a minute."

Neal flashed the tall blonde his best smile as Regina spoke.

"Of course, Miss Mills," the undercover police officer replied without missing a beat. "We'll see you on board. Our flight time today will be about thirteen hours. We already have your regular food and drink items stocked. Please do let me know if you need anything more."

As soon as the woman had stepped away, Neal wound the window up. The five of them sat in silence as she walked away from them towards the black woman stood at the base of the steps. They exchanged a few words and then began to climb up the stairs. As soon as they disappeared inside, Neal turned to Lily. "Ready?"

"Yes," Lily nodded.

"Great, Regina. Out you get. You know what to do."

"Neal, I -"

Regina fell silent as Neal raised the gun in his hand and pointed it not at her but at Emma. The blonde's finger, still intertwined with her own, squeezed even tighter. "Get out. Now," he hissed. "And once she's on board, come back here or Emma's going to be in trouble, do you understand?"

"Yes," Regina whispered, breaking the contact at last with the younger teen and reaching for the door handle.

Ignoring the gun which her so called friend was aiming at her head, Emma leaned forwards, her hand now gripped around Regina's bicep. "Do as he says," Emma whispered into the brunette's ear. "Just, be safe."

"I will," Regina replied before she pushed the door open and climbed out of the car.

* * *

A/N: this pinkie thing just came to me and now I think it's adorable.


	14. The Jet

A/N: Happy Wednesday!

* * *

Regina knew there were any number of emotions she was entitled to feel as she stepped out of the cool air-conditioned car onto the asphalt. Fear, confusion, anger, abject terror. But sadness on behalf of one of her captors? She had seen the look of betrayal in Emma's eyes as Neal had pointed the gun at her. The man's callousness, his disregard for her life and his blatant disconnect from the rest of his so called team. Emma deserved better than that. Emma deserved friends who didn't encourage her to rob a bank and commit countless felonies. Emma deserved a family who loved her. Emma deserved –

She was standing on the far side of the car now, hand poised over the handle. Through the blacked out windows she couldn't see the vehicle's occupants but she knew four sets of eyes were watching her. There was nothing else she could do. She opened the door.

At once, Lily slid from the seat, and wrapped her arm tightly around Regina's neck again, the barrel of her rifle jammed against Regina's ribs. The brunette barely caught a glimpse of blonde hair before the door was slammed shut and she was pushed towards the jet.

If it had been Neal or Peter, Regina might have tried to say something to her captor, to try and convince them not to go through with their clearly ludicrous plan. But Lily was an unknown entity. Neal knew he needed her and therefore wasn't going to do anything more than threaten her life. Peter had been silent when he had taken her to wait in Mr Gold's office back in the bank but Emma seemed to trust him not to hurt her. That felt like a lifetime ago, Regina realised as she walked across the tarmac to the jet. She hadn't spent long with Peter but she got the sense he was a gentle person, despite the violence he had become mixed up in. And of course she knew that whatever Emma told her to do, it would be in her best interest. Which was crazy, she recognised, but true.

Lily, however, was a stranger to her. The only thing Regina knew about the woman whose slender arm pressed harshly against her windpipe was that she'd shot someone back in the bank. She was volatile, unpredictable, dangerous and potentially deadly. So Regina just walked, placing one foot in front of the other, Lily holding her tight as they approached the base of the staircase which led up to her family's private jet.

* * *

"They're coming, Lieutenant," Officer Maloney said quietly, knowing her microphone would pick up on the words as she peered out of the open door.

"Who can you see?" came the Lieutenant's voice in her ear.

"Regina Mills and a young woman. Brown hair. Tall, maybe five nine. Skinny. Wearing a black hoodie and jeans. She's got a gun, a rifle, on Miss Mills. They're making no attempt to hide what's going on."

"Where are you right now?" Lieutenant Rogers asked.

"Just outside the cockpit," Maloney answered. "Pearce is inside."

"Good," Killian said. "Stay separate if you can. They'll want you together so they can control you. It looks like they're planning to take you two as hostages as well. Stay calm. Remember your training. They need you to fly the plane, or so they think, so they're not going to do anything to you. We'll be there in ten minutes. Fifteen at the most."

"Ok," Maloney answered. "They're climbing up the steps now. I'd better stop talking else they'll know something's up."

"Miss Mills will already know you're not her pilot," Killian reminded her. "Just try to make sure she goes along with it. We don't want to spook them if Regina is still in danger. But if you get the chance to take one of them down and Regina is somewhere safe, do it. And if you get a moment with her alone, you can tell her you're both police and that you're there to protect her."

"Understood," Maloney said. "They're almost here. God, the woman's young, Lieu. Sixteen, seventeen maybe."

Killian scribbled the information down on his notepad while his detective drove onwards, as fast as the roads would allow, their sirens and flashing lights aiding their progress. Once they got within earshot of the airfield, the sirens would be silenced but until then they needed to drive as fast as possible. They didn't have long before Neal found out that two police officers were posing as the people he needed for his escape plan to work. When that was revealed, who knew what would happen.

* * *

Emma watched through the dark glass as Regina and Lily made their way slowly up the steps towards the open door of the jet. Neal watched too, whistling again. He had lowered the gun which had been pointing at Emma as soon as Regina exited the car. Whether he had ever had any intention of going through with that threat, Emma wasn't sure but her heart had leapt in her chest when he had pointed it at her.

She was indignant more than anything else. How dare he? How dare he point a loaded pistol at her after everything she had done for him? They had been a team; on the streets and in the bank robbery. True, she now knew they weren't as close as she had thought and yes, she recognised that Neal was, for all intents and purposes, scum. Even if they did make it out of the mess they were in, she would never forgive him for what he had done to Regina and not just the marring of her beautiful face. It was the emotional trauma she would be left with just as much as the physical scars.

"Nearly there," Neal muttered as Regina and Lily reached the top of the steps. "Peter, you can go next. Then me. Emma, you can be last this time. I'm sure Regina will come back and get you, don't worry."

"And what's to stop us driving the car away and leaving you guys on the plane?" Emma asked.

Even as the words left her mouth, she realised it was a foolish question. Neal turned slowly in his seat and leered at her, waggling the loaded pistol in the air.

"Well, I don't know about you but I'm sure a delicate little flower like Regina couldn't deal with knowing her actions resulted in the death of her family's pilot, right?"

"You need the pilot, Neal," Emma reminded him. "If you kill her, you're screwed."

"Correction, I need one of the pilots. The co-pilot will do just fine. Or maybe I'll kill the co-pilot and keep … Mal was it? You know blondes are my type."

Emma pursed her lips and turned away from Neal to see where Regina had got to with her ascent. But she had disappeared. Craning her neck, green eyes locked onto the open door of the jet, waiting, praying for the brunette to re-emerge.

* * *

After the brightness of outside, it took a moment for Regina's eyes to adjust to the interior of the plane. She blinked, gaze landing at once on the tall blonde woman. She knew it was not Mal. The woman had flown the Mills family jet for years. No, this was someone else. A cop, surely.

"Good afternoon, Miss Mills," the woman said, smiling politely.

"Hi Mal," Regina nodded. "Um, this is my friend -"

But before she could even complete the charade, Lily had pushed Regina hard away from her and pointed her gun at the unknown blonde. Glancing sideways and seeing that Regina had landed awkwardly in one of the plush armchairs which served as seats on the luxurious jet, she directed her attention at the pilot. After all, Lily knew Regina wouldn't do anything that might put Emma in danger.

"Sit down. Put the seatbelt on," Lily said gruffly, waving her gun towards the seat on the far side of the cabin. "Regina, you'd better buckle up too."

In the absence of zip ties, Lily mused, she may as well make the hostages restrain themselves somewhat. The blonde woman, hands raised, backed slowly away, eyes locked on Lily's. The teenager snarled at the display of defiance and followed the pilot, pointing the gun straight at her chest. The woman reached the seat and sat down before pulling out the seat belt and buckling it across her lap. A quick look at Regina told Lily the brunette had done the same.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Lily asked.

The blonde woman stared back at her. "Who?"

Lily scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me. I know you're fucking your co-pilot. Where is she?"

Well, that was a piece of information her Commanding Officer had neglected to tell her, Maloney thought to herself. "Cockpit," she said, knowing there was nothing else for it.

Lily looked over her shoulder and then back at the two women. "Regina, anything happens and Emma will pay, understand?"

Regina nodded mutely, face paler than ever as Lily walked backwards towards the cockpit, gun still pointed towards the blonde pilot. When at last she reached the door, Lily was forced to turn around to navigate the handle. As soon as she did so, Regina turned to look at the stranger on the far side of the plane. Maloney was looking right back at her and raised a finger to her lips before pointing at her foot. Despite not knowing exactly what the woman meant, Regina understood that she needed to be quiet.

Once the door to the cockpit was open, Lily stepped through into the small space. Quick as a flash, Maloney unbuckled herself and pulled her service weapon which had been holstered against her ankle. She had expected a half-hearted pat down but it seemed the criminals had taken Regina's word that she and her fellow police officer were the family's usual pilots. Launching herself out of the chair and through the open door, Maloney pressed the barrel of her pistol to the back of the hostage taker's head just as the young woman was raising her own gun towards Pearce.

"Drop it," Maloney hissed, "or I drop you."

For a moment, Lily didn't move. Pearce stared into her cold, hard eyes and could tell the teenager was trying to decide whether it was worth it. Was her life worth it now? After the day's events, what sort of life would she have? Would this be the best way to go rather than a lifetime in prison? But eventually the weapon was slowly lowered, the desire to continue her life in some form winning the argument.

Pearce grabbed the rifle and unloaded it immediately while Maloney instructed Lily to interlace her fingers behind her head. As she did so, she spoke, seemingly to no one.

"One suspect secured, Lieutenant. Miss Mills is safe. The three other suspects are parked in the SUV outside the jet. Maybe thirty yards from the staircase up here." There was a pause and then; "are you ok, Miss?" Maloney asked over her shoulder as she handcuffed Lily.

"I … I think so," Regina nodded slowly, unbuckling her belt and cautiously approaching the cockpit.

"You're safe now. I'm Officer Maloney and this is Officer Pearce. Half of NYPD is on their way here for you, young lady. I'm just speaking with Lieutenant Jones who's been leading the efforts. He'll be here in about ten minutes. Stay here with us and let them deal with the others in the car and then you'll be reunited with your family."

"No!" Regina cried out.

Frowning, Maloney walked out of the cockpit, leaving Pearce to follow with Lily whom she took to the back of the plane, as far from Regina as possible.

"No?" Maloney repeated. "Well, you're a teenager. All teenagers hate their families, right?"

"No, I love my family," Regina insisted, a little affronted. "I mean the people in the car. I … my friend is in there."

"Another hostage?" Maloney asked. "We were never told about a second hostage. Lieu," she said a little louder as if wanting to make sure she had the man's attention, "how many hostages were there?"

"No," Regina said, speaking over Killian's answer of 'one' which was delivered to Maloney through her ear piece. "I mean, she's not exactly a hostage. She's one of the group."

"You knew one of the hostage takers? But I thought you weren't the target?"

"I wasn't and I didn't know her before a couple of hours ago," Regina said, face suddenly reddening.

Maloney narrowed her eyes. "I'm confused. Lieu, can you shed any light on this?"

Although Regina couldn't hear the man's negative answer she knew what he would have said. No one knew about Emma. What was there to know? Regina couldn't even explain it to herself let alone a police officer. She'd been taken hostage by a beautiful, kind, intriguing young woman with whom she shared some indescribable connection and now she wanted to save Emma's life. Yeah, like the cops were going to understand that.

"If I don't go back out there," Regina said slowly, "people are going to get hurt. They'll know something's wrong and they'll hurt her."

"Who's her?" Maloney asked.

"Emma," came a chuckle from the back of the plane.

Maloney peered past Regina who had turned to glare at Lily who was sat at the back of the jet, a snarl on her face.

"Who's Emma?" Maloney asked.

"She's one of the team, I guess, but she's been really nice to me. She's been looking after me, protecting me," Regina insisted.

"One of the people who took you hostage was … nice?" Maloney asked.

"I know it sounds crazy," Regina sighed, "and maybe it is but if I don't go out there, Neal is going to kill her. I know she's done some bad things today but I can't let her get hurt or … or shot." She couldn't even bring herself to say killed. "Please, they don't know anything is wrong, right? What if I just go back out and we continue with their plan? I'm supposed to escort them in, one at a time. We do that and then when Emma's safe, the cops can move in. Please, Officer Maloney. Please let me do this."

"I can't let a civilian walk out of a safe location into the line of fire," Maloney said. "That's not exactly how our job works. We're supposed to keep you safe not put you in danger."

"What about civilians who go undercover?"

Maloney chuckled. "You watch cop shows, I see." The number of people she came into contact with every day who thought they knew what her job entailed astounded her. She supposed she had the Law & Order franchise and countless other police procedurals to thank for that.

"My mother loves them," Regina nodded. "Please, let me go 'undercover'. I'll pretend Lily took you and fake Ursula hostage no problem and then you can take whoever comes onto the jet next hostage too. Neal's mental but Peter and Emma would be no problem, I promise."

Maloney paused and nodded her head. Regina's face lit up with excitement before she realised that the woman was listening to words spoken into her ear piece by the unknown Lieutenant who had been leading the charge to rescue her and the other hostages.

"I'm sorry," Maloney said eventually. "It's not going to happen. These guys have already killed someone and -"

"What?" Regina gasped. "Who?"

"I don't know," Maloney admitted. "All I know is that there was a casualty at the bank."

Regina hung her head. Was that the man whom she'd seen lying on the ground? Or perhaps Neal had killed Mr Gold after all, just not with his gun?

A howl of pain behind them made both Regina and Maloney whip around. Pearce was sat on the ground cradling her knee which evidently Lily had just kicked. That act of violence, however, had apparently been the start and end of the woman's plan as she was just sat there scowling, hands cuffed behind her back. Evidently the news that she was going to be charged with murder had made her want to kick something and Pearce's knee was unfortunately the nearest target.

Maloney darted forwards and dragged Pearce out of the way. Regina watched for a second before making her decision. She backed away to the open door of the jet, took one last look at the two police officers and Lily before turning and stepping out onto the top of the stairs which led to the asphalt, to the car, to Emma.

* * *

A/N: The next chapter will be the big showdown, I promise, and then the cliff hangers will ease up.


	15. The Showdown

A/N: Long chapter for you all because I did promise no cliff hangers, right?

* * *

Emma's breath hitched as she saw the beautiful brunette appear at the top of the steps and hurry down them. Neal chucked at the mixture of fear on Regina's behalf and pure puppy love on Emma's features.

"Peter, you're next," Neal said as Regina approached the car.

"What about this money, Neal?" Peter asked, pointing to the bags of cash which were stuffed behind the chairs.

"Emma's going to bring it on for us, aren't you Emma? You and Regina can each carry two bags. It's not like either of you need any persuasion," he waved his gun, "to follow one another onto the plane."

"Screw you, Neal," Emma scowled.

"Oh, love, I think our days of screwing are sadly over, don't you?"

Emma narrowed her eyes and Neal just chuckled.

"Any questions, Peter?"

"No," the young man said grimly, flexing his fingers around the grip of his gun as if preparing himself. The action should have scared Emma but something told her that Peter was just as unwilling to fire his weapon as she was. Regina was safe with Peter, surely. It was Neal she had to worry about.

It was no accident, they all knew, that Regina walked to Emma's side of the car. When the door opened, two sets of eyes locked briefly before Neal snapped at Regina to take Peter next.

"Are you ok?" Emma whispered, trying to read the brunette's expression. Something was different. Something had changed. There was an element of fear in Regina's eyes which she hadn't seen before, even throughout the events which had unfolded over the last two hours.

"Fine," Regina muttered, eyes burning into Emma's with an unparalleled intensity.

It wasn't fine, Emma knew. But she didn't say anything and allowed Regina to push the door shut and circle the car to Peter's side. At once, the young man stepped out onto the asphalt and wrapped his arm around Regina's neck, gun held in a trembling hand to her temple. Regina glanced back at Emma once before the door slammed closed and they set off towards the plane.

* * *

"Shit, Lieu," Maloney said, peering out of a window and watching the events unfurl on the ground below.

"Is Regina ok?" Killian asked, his heart pounding.

"A second guy is on his way. He's holding a fucking gun on her again," Maloney said through gritted teeth.

If anything happened to Regina Mills, her career was over. It probably was already, to be fair, she mused. She had somehow allowed a hostage she had rescued to walk back into a dangerous situation involving armed criminals.

"Take him down as soon as he steps into the jet," Killian said. "And don't let Regina leave again, for fuck's sake. We're about eight minutes away."

Maloney pursed her lips and nodded grimly before remembering that the superior officer couldn't see her and answering in the affirmative. She moved towards the doorway, gesturing for Pearce to join her. Lily had been secured at the back of the plane, out of sight in the small service area. Pearce positioned herself in the doorway which led to the cabin, gun at the ready. Maloney meanwhile pressed her body against the concave wall of the jet, directly beside the open door. As soon as Regina walked inside, they could secure the man who was holding her hostage.

A rhythmic clicking on the steps told the two police officers that Regina was climbing up the stairs towards the jet. Their eyes met and they nodded in unison, happy with their plan. The late afternoon sun cast Regina's shadow across the shaft of light on the floor of the jet as she reached the top of the ascent. A slender leg stepped over the threshold, followed by the woman herself.

At once, Maloney lunged forwards, grabbing the gunman's hand and tackling him to the floor. Regina cried out as she fell forwards too, scrambling away from Peter who landed heavily on top of her. Pearce stepped over her and kicked away the gun which had fallen to the floor. It skidded under a seat and out of sight.

"Ok, ok, I surrender," Peter shouted as Maloney twisted his hand behind his back. "It wasn't me. It wasn't my plan. I didn't do anything."

Regina pushed herself up into a sitting position and then got to her feet, staring down at Peter who was being handcuffed by the police officer now straddling him. Two down. Two still free.

"Miss Mills," Pearce began, moving back towards the woman they had been assigned to protect and making to step over the perp on the floor.

"No," Regina gasped, turning and running towards the open door. Only one thought was in her mind. Emma. Emma was still in danger. Emma was still with Neal. And Emma was in the car which, no doubt, would be showered with bullets as and when the police arrived at the airfield.

As soon as the teenager began to move, Maloney twisted around, still on top of Peter and grabbed at the woman as she passed. Her fingers gripped Regina's toned thigh for a moment but the kick of a heel forced her to loosen her hold and Regina continued, racing out of the jet and back towards the car.

"Miss Mills," Maloney cried as the brunette disappeared back out of the jet. But there was no reply. "Oh God, we're so fucking screwed," she muttered, climbing off her latest handcuffed criminal and hauling him to his feet.

* * *

"Something's wrong," Neal said, eyes narrowed as he saw Regina reappear and hurry, with a different sense of urgency, down the stairs.

"Regina?" Emma said, craning her neck over the seat in front of her.

The woman had reached the bottom of the stairs already and was running towards the car. Neal's hands flew to the wheel, fingers gripping as if ready to make a quick getaway. As she approached, Emma opened her door.

"Don't get out," Neal roared, the power of his voice forcing Emma to freeze.

"Regina," Emma said as the woman flew around the door and stopped short. "What's wrong?"

"Um, nothing," Regina said, reaching out and grasping Emma's hands. The blonde interlaced their fingers, squeezing reassuringly. "I, um, Lily scared me. That's all."

Neal frowned. "What's going on up there?"

"Lily's just … you know. She's crazy, right?" Regina lied, praying Neal would believe her. From the look Emma was giving her, she knew the blonde could tell her words weren't the truth but she also knew that Emma wasn't going to give her away. There was an unspoken trust between them.

"What's going on?" Neal repeated, a hint of panic evident in his tone.

"She's got the pilots held hostage," Regina offered, knowing that was what Neal had assumed Lily had done. "But she told me to hurry up and get you and Emma up there too. She told me to run. She pointed her gun at me."

After the day's events, the explanation sounded plausible. Lily was no stranger to not only pointing guns but also following through on her threats. Neal hesitated as if considering the brunette's words before nodding.

"Fine," he said. "Me next. Emma last. Come here."

Regina's eyes met Emma's once more. "Go on, do as he says," Emma murmured, reaching out involuntarily and brushing the back of her forefinger across Regina's cheek which were a little flushed. The brunette's breath hitched at the contact. And then it was broken. Emma's hand dropped, their fingers untangled and she stepped back, allowing the blonde to close the door. Taking a deep breath, Regina circled around towards Neal's door.

* * *

"You what?" Killian yelled, pounding his fist on the dashboard of the car which was speeding towards its destination. "I gave you one simple order. Keep Regina Mills safe. How fucking hard is that?"

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," Maloney's voice said through the car stereo. "She was gone before we even had a chance. The second perp is secured, however."

"Right now, I don't care about that. You've let Regina fucking Mills walk back to a car with two armed hostage takers in it. Again. You and Pearce are both going to be up for review after this."

The detective glanced sideways at the furious Lieutenant and pointed ahead to where a control tower was visible. "We're about four minutes away."

"Kill the siren," Killian said as the car sped forwards. The detective reached out and did exactly that, the sound of the car's engine now audible as the wailing ceased. "Maloney, where is Mills now?"

"At the car, Lieu," Maloney said. "She's standing behind an open door. The rear passenger side. I can't see what's going on."

Killian sighed in exasperation and rubbed his hands over his face. "Ok, well, does it look like she's still breathing?"

"Yes, Lieu," Maloney said, ignoring the sarcasm. "Oh, hang on, I have a visual again. She's walking around to the driver's door now."

"That's Neal Gold," Killian said. "He appears to be the ringleader of the group. What's happening?"

"He's getting out," Maloney reported. "He's got Regina in the same hold as the others. I can see a gun. Pistol, I think."

Killian looked at the sat nav on the dashboard. "We're three minutes away. He'll be on the plane by then, right?"

"I'd guess so," Maloney nodded. "The car is not far from the jet. It takes maybe thirty seconds to walk over here."

Was that a good thing? Neal was the most volatile of the group, it seemed. The fact that he was the one currently holding Regina at gunpoint was less than ideal.

"Take him down if you get the chance," Killian said. "And whatever you do, keep Regina safe."

"Copy Lieu," Maloney said, moving back into the position she had held to tackle the second criminal. Pearce, who had emerged from securing the young man at the back of the plane, took her own position just as the click of Regina's heel on the metal stairs met their ears.

* * *

The climb seemed to take longer this time, Regina thought to herself. Why? Was it because the man behind her was holding her tighter? Was it because his forearm was restricting her breath as it pressed into her neck? Was it because the cool barrel of his gun was pressed against her temple? Was it because she was walking away from Emma, knowing full well that teams of police were, in that moment, descending on the airfield?

Neal's knee collided with the back of her own and she stumbled. "For fuck's sake," the man growled in her ear. "You'll get to go back to your girlfriend soon enough. What is it about Emma? I mean, I know she's a sweet piece of ass but is it the bad girl image as well? Is that what you like, Regina? Do criminals make you wet?"

The brunette said nothing as she put her foot on the next step and continued their ascent. Neal chuckled at her silence, enjoying the knowledge that he had angered Regina. The entitled rich bitch deserved it. Everything had come easily to Regina, he was sure. Which was why she deserved a day from hell. The fact that there was this evident attraction between her and Emma was just the icing on the cake. He knew it was eating both women alive; Emma because she knew she could never get a woman like Regina and Regina because she knew she could never be with a woman like Emma.

As they reached the small platform at the top of the stairs, Neal readjusted his hold around Regina. Through the thick material of his hoodie, the man didn't notice the pounding heartbeat of his hostage. Nudging Regina forwards, they stepped into the jet.

Before his eyes had time to adjust to the darkened interior, he felt small, strong hands clamp around his wrist, jerking it upwards. Letting out an angry yell, his finger retracted. An ear-splitting bang echoed around the small space and the trembling body which he had been clasping to his own slipped from his grasp.

* * *

Emma's hand had been resting on the door handle, poised to get out as soon as Regina re-emerged. The moment the gunshot was heard, however, the blonde threw herself out of the car, leaving the door wide open as she sprinted towards the jet and up the steps three at a time. As she ran, she heard another shot. And a third. And a fourth. Screams and shouts reached her ears, chilling the blood which was pumping through her veins.

"Regina!" she cried out, launching herself through the open door and stumbling forwards over the body which was splayed out on the floor. She caught her balance and looked back at heap of flesh. Neal's glassy brown eyes gazed up at her, unseeing. "Neal," Emma whispered.

"Oh the ground!" an unfamiliar voice yelled at her, pulling her from her turmoil of thoughts.

Slowly turning, Emma found herself staring down the barrel of a glock, behind which glared an angry blonde. Clearly this woman was not Regina's family's pilot. Frozen, she raised her arms on either side of her head, sinking to her knees. The moment she was on the ground, a second police officer came towards Emma, grabbing her wrists and curling cold metal around them. Emma's eyes continued the search of the space for the woman she was looking for.

"Where's Regina?" she asked the cop as she was pulled to her feet.

"Shut up," Officer Pearce said, pushing Emma in front of her towards the back of the plane and away from the corpse against whose neck Maloney now had two fingers pressed, feeling for the pulse which beat no more.

"Emma!"

Despite the armed officer behind her, Emma spun on the spot. "Regina," she gasped as she saw the brunette emerging from the cockpit.

Ignoring Officer Maloney who was getting to her feet, Regina hurried down the jet towards Emma. Her features were awash with relief and gratitude at the sight of Emma, alive and unhurt.

"Miss Mills," Officer Pearce said before Regina could reach Emma, "step back." She held out her arm, the flat palm an obvious signal for the brunette to come so closer.

"She's not going to hurt me," Regina said, stopping at the end of the outstretched arm. "Emma, tell them."

"I'm not," Emma said. "I haven't hurt anyone and I'm not going to hurt Regina."

"Oh, ok, that's fine then. Because we always take the word of criminals who have been holding innocent civilians hostage for hours," Pearce deadpanned.

Emma felt a blush rise up her face. It was true. Of course it was true. No one was going to let her anywhere near Regina ever again. And they shouldn't. She was the reason that Regina was here, in a way. She was the reason Regina had been in danger. Or part of the reason.

"Emma won't hurt me," Regina said, arms folded. "She's been with me the whole time. She kept me safe. She protected me."

"Miss Mills, please, come here," Maloney said, taking a gentle hold of Regina's bicep.

The brunette flinched, jumping away from the officer's grasp and moving as far away as she could. Only Officer Pearce's presence stopped her from running to Emma.

"Are you ok?" the blonde asked, concerned that the move had been caused because Regina was in pain. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," Regina said, trying not to think of why she might have so negatively reacted to the physical touch of someone whom she knew was there to protect her. But after the day's events, it was hardly surprising, she supposed.

"Come on," Pearce said, pushing Emma towards the rear of the plane.

Regina made to follow but Maloney grabbed her more firmly and tugged her away. "No, please, Officer. You don't understand," Regina pleaded.

"Maybe not but there is no way in hell I am letting you anywhere near the people who were holding you hostage. Again," Maloney said, eyebrows raised. "Come back to the cockpit with me until the rest of the police arrive."

Resigned to the fact that there was nothing she could do, Regina allowed herself to be tugged in the opposite direction to Emma. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw wide, worried green eyes. In an attempt to reassure the petrified blonde, she forced a smile before Emma was pushed out of sight. Once the blonde disappeared, she turned back towards the front of the plane, this time her gaze landing on the lifeless body on the floor.

"Is he dead?" Regina asked as they passed Neal.

"Yes," Maloney said shortly. "Don't look. Come on."

But it was too late. Regina had already seen the dark stain of blood, seeping out from beneath the fallen man, his eyes staring, blank. And then she was inside the cockpit and Maloney was closing the door behind them.

"Sit," she instructed, pointing to the pilot's seat. Regina did as she was told, comforted in the knowledge that Emma was at least alive. As she did so, Maloney spoke to the commanding officer who was listening in. "Lieu, all four perps have been apprehended. One dead, three under arrest. Miss Mills is safe. She and I are in the cockpit. Estimated time of arrival?"

Regina didn't hear the reply but she knew the police couldn't be far away. Maloney sat down in the other chair and crossed her legs, seemingly waiting. Turning to her left, Regina peered out of the window to the asphalt craning her neck to see if she could spot the approaching cavalry.

* * *

"Emma," Peter said as soon as the young woman appeared in the small service area at the back of the plane. "What the fuck happened?" He and Lily had listened to the commotion but been unable to move. Gunshots. Shouting. Regina's voice. Emma's voice. The police. It had been confusing and at the same time, they knew it was the end.

"Neal was shot," Emma said through gritted teeth.

"Fucking cops," Lily snarled. "Is he gonna make it?"

Emma shook her head and said nothing as Officer Pearce forced her to take a seat. All three of them were perched on small fold down chairs, hands cuffed awkwardly behind their backs. Seatbelts secured around their waists, for the hostesses to use during take off and landing, prevented them from standing. Pearce stepped back once Emma was in position, her gun pulled and ready. Lily glared at the cop. Peter stared only at his shoes. Emma bowed her head too, resigned to her fate.

It wasn't as if she had really thought they were going to be allowed to fly out of the US with Regina as their hostage and live happily ever after. Of course they were going to be caught. Of course they were going to be arrested. Even Neal's death hadn't surprised her. She was almost more surprised that three of them were still alive. Grateful, but surprised. She was even more grateful that Regina appeared to be unharmed.

"Officer," Emma said, looking up into the stony face of the dark skinned police woman. "I wasn't going to hurt Regina."

"Shut up," Pearce said, pointing her gun at Emma, "or I'll make you shut up."

* * *

Rubber squealed on warm tarmac as the car skidded to a stop metres from the private jet. Killian leapt from the vehicle and raced towards the stairs, his detective right behind him. As soon as he was on the plane, he looked around. "Maloney? Pearce?"

"I'm in here with Miss Mills," a female voice called from the cockpit. "Pearce is in the back with three perps."

Killian pointed towards the rear of the jet and signalled that his detective should go there. He turned towards the cockpit and fiddled the door open.

"Regina," he said as soon as he saw her. "Are you ok?"

"Fine," Regina said, getting to her feet. "Are you in charge?"

"I am," Killian nodded. "My name is Lieutenant Killian Rogers. I've been working with Commissioner Glass on this rescue."

"Sidney?" Regina asked, craning her neck past the Lieutenant. "Is he here?" Surely, she thought to herself, Sidney would let her see Emma. Her father's best friend had a real soft spot for her. He could ask him to do anything and he'd say yes.

"He's on his way," Killian nodded. "As are your parents. They're driving up in a squad car together. I've told them you're safe. They'll be here in twenty minutes or so. Officer Maloney, it looks like you've finally done as I'm asked. Who fired the fatal shot?"

"Pearce did, Lieutenant," Maloney said. "I reached for the perp's gun and forced it away from Miss Mills. Pearce pulled Miss Mills to safety and pushed her into this cockpit before firing three shots at the man whom I was struggling to restrain. He did not survive his injuries."

Killian nodded slowly. The footage from the hidden cameras on both cops would corroborate the officer's story, he was sure. "Stay here," he said to both Maloney and Regina before backing out of the small cockpit and shutting the door.

Maloney and Regina sat down again, awaiting further instruction. Maloney wouldn't dare disobey a direct order from a superior and Regina could tell that Killian was not about to let her accompany him to see Emma.

* * *

Lily, Peter and Emma all looked up as the tall policeman appeared in the doorway. Officer Pearce turned and stood up a little straighter. "Lieutenant Rogers," she said. "The offenders have all been secured."

"Good," Killian said, scanning the three young faces before him. Very young, he realised. Teenagers. Younger by several years than the man lying dead in the doorway of the jet. "Have you read them their rights?"

"Not yet," Pearce said. "I wasn't sure on the charges."

Killian had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. These rookies were damn lucky to have not been killed themselves or to have the blood of a billionaire's daughter on their hands. Jersey Police had a bad reputation for a reason.

"How about armed robbery, kidnapping and murder?" Killian deadpanned.

Pearce blushed and set about reciting the Miranda warning she had learned at the academy. Killian watched, arms folded, as the young woman repeated the charges and words to each suspect. They weren't sure which of them was responsible for firing the shot which had killed the civilian in the bank but all three could be charged as accomplices. Neal Gold, however, would never get his day in court.

* * *

Out of the window, Regina watched as a veritable fleet of police cars drove up to her family's jet accompanied by two ambulances. They just seemed to keep coming until twenty cop cars were clustered on the airfield. As officers poured out of the vehicles, Regina scanned the bodies for her parents.

"Daddy," she whispered as the man emerged from the back of a squad car, closely followed by her mother. "Mother."

Her parents were accompanied by Sidney Glass, a man Regina had known all her life. The trio stayed back, however, as a stream of police climbed up the stairs.

"Stay here," Maloney instructed as she moved towards the door to greet her fellow officers.

Knowing that there wasn't much more she could do, Regina obeyed. Out of the window, she watched the flurry of activity. After the police, two paramedics were sent up the stairs and, several minutes later, emerged with the stretcher, onto which Neal's lifeless body was strapped. Her parents were hovering beside a cop car. Regina could see her father itching to push past his friend and run to the jet but he was resisting. He must know she was safe, Regina reasoned.

As Neal's body disappeared into the back of an ambulance, the door opened. "Miss Mills," Maloney said. "You can come with me now."

Getting to her feet, Regina followed the officer into the main part of the jet. The space was filled with cops. A man with a camera was snapping pictures of everything. Regina ducked her head, avoiding the curious stares. Maloney's hand landed on the small of her back, steering her past the bloodstain which branded the space where Neal had taken his final breath, and out of the jet.

"Regina!"

The moment she heard her father's cry of relief, all other thoughts faded from Regina's mind. As fast as she dared, she ran down the steps and towards her parents. At last Glass allowed them to move and Henry and Cora dashed forwards to meet their daughter. Three bodies collided, arms wrapped around one another. Face buried in the familiar smell of her family, Regina let out a shuddering wail of relief. Henry mumbled incomprehensible words of love into his daughter's hair while Cora sobbed quietly into her shoulder.

It was only then that Regina realised she had begun to think she would never see her family again. Although Neal's plan had been absurd, she had started to believe it would work. She had feared that they were going to take off in the private jet and escape to a faraway country from which she would never return. Even being with Emma, a woman she had known for two hours, wasn't a consolation for the thought of not seeing her parents again. She burrowed herself deeper into their warmth, their love, tears streaming down her face.

They stayed like that for almost a minute before Sidney gently tapped Henry on the shoulder.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Let's get Regina to a hospital."

"I'm fine," Regina said, pulling back and wiping her face, mascara streaked across her skin.

"No, sweetheart, you're not," Cora said, reaching out to cup her daughter's chin and inspect the gouge in her lip.

"Oh, that," Regina remembered, reaching up and touching the split skin. The pain was more of a dull ache now, the tenderness and stinging pain less severe.

"It needs stitches," Sidney said. "Come on, your father can ride with you and I'll drive your mother."

Regina allowed herself to be steered towards the one remaining ambulance. The other, containing Neal's body, had already departed from the scene. As they reached the car, however, Regina turned back, sensing the appearance of a woman she had temporarily forgotten about in the arms of her parents.

"Emma," she whispered under her breath.

"What was that, Princess?" Henry asked, his arm around Regina's shoulders.

But Regina didn't answer. Instead, she slipped from her father's embrace and raced back towards the jet, towards Emma who was descending the steps ahead of Peter and Lily, each flanked by two officers.

"Emma!" she shouted as she approached.

Green eyes widened at her name just as she stepped back onto American soil, arms handcuffed behind her back. The officers on either side were so startled to see the young woman who had been taken hostage running towards them that they didn't react at first.

It was Regina throwing her arms around Emma's neck that spurred them into action. The two officers tried to unclasp the brunette's grip and pull her away.

"No!" she cried, holding on tighter. "Don't take her!"

"Regina," Emma hissed in her ear. "Let me go."

"No," Regina said, burrowing her face against Emma's neck, inhaling the now familiar musky smell. Considering Emma lived on the street, she practiced excellent hygiene but it was undeniable that the woman needed a wash. Regina didn't care however, and pressed her nose into the soft skin. Her lips, too, made contact with Emma's body. They tingled, and it wasn't because of the open wound slashed across the upper one.

"Miss Mills," an officer said, his arm now wrapped firmly around Regina's waist. "Let go of this woman."

"Regina," Emma said again. "Do what they say. I'll be ok."

"No, you won't," Regina said, pulling back to look at Emma and ignoring the man tugging at her body. "You're under arrest."

"I deserve to be," Emma said, wishing she could wrap Regina in her arms the way the brunette was doing to her. Despite the dire situation, white hot desire had coursed through her veins at the feeling of Regina's body against her own.

"No, you don't," Regina said. "You kept me safe. She kept me safe," she announced louder to the officers around her. "Emma kept me safe. She didn't do anything wrong. You have to let her go."

"Regina, come with us."

"No, Sidney," Regina said without turning to the man she knew was behind her.

"Regina, please. Let this woman go."

A firm jerk to Regina's waist and she was forced to release her grasp. Stumbling backwards, brown eyes filled with tears again, Regina felt her father's arm come to wrap around her shoulder and steer her forcefully away, Sidney following close behind. Emma watched, her own eyes sparkling, as Regina was led away.

"Come on," said one of the officers who was holding her arm. "Let's go."

Unable to do anything but obey, Emma fell into step and allowed herself to be steered towards a police car. Just before a hand landed on her head to guide her inside, she looked behind her. There was no sign of Regina. She gave way to the pressure against her skull and sunk into the car. The door snapped shut and the officer who had climbed in beside her secured the seat belt. Moments later the driver pulled away.

Emma took a deep breath, the lingering scent of Regina rising from her clothes and curling into her nostrils. She closed her eyes. A tear squeezed from beneath her lashes and dripped down her cheek.

* * *

A/N: should I change the rating on AO3 to include Major Character Death? I mean, was Neal a main character? I hope no one minded that I killed him. He had it coming, right?


	16. The Processing

A/N: so my week started at 8:10 on a Monday morning with me spilling water into my laptop. My laptop, incidentally is my computer on which I write for you guys every weekend in cafes, not my work computer which is full of excel documents and boring things. Luckily the cloud had saved this chapter which was 90% complete along with 40,000 words of the novel I'm working on so life is ok. My laptop is in a rice coffin and I'm going to try and turn it on shortly … wish me luck! Oh, and have a chapter.

* * *

Regina sat in silence on the hospital bed, staring unseeingly ahead of her as a doctor examined the cut on her lip. Her father was holding one hand and her mother, the other. Sidney had left the room once the doctor had arrived to make some calls and give the small family a little privacy.

"We'll need to suture this," the doctor said, straightening up. "I'll get our best plastic surgeon down here to do it. That way the scarring will be minimal but I'm afraid it's too deep and too long to disappear completely."

"She'll have a scar?" Cora asked, gazing at the previously perfect face of her only daughter.

"I'm sorry but yes. Perhaps if we'd been able to suture it earlier but it's been several hours now and the wound is too wide," the doctor nodded solemnly.

"My poor baby," Henry murmured.

Regina said nothing. She didn't care any more. Movement carried on around her as the doctor completed the rest of his checks. Not long after he left, declaring that Regina was unharmed apart from her lip, the plastic surgeon came down to stitch her wound. It was a task usually performed by nurses or doctors in the ER but for Regina Mills, the best of the best was called in.

Distantly, she could hear her parents talking as the surgeon set to work. She numbed the area thoroughly before beginning her sutures. Although Regina felt no pain, she could feel the sensation of the skin tugging together. After ten minutes, the woman had finished the task. Speaking quietly to her parents for a moment, the plastic surgeon wished Regina good luck before ducking out of her private room.

Another fifteen minutes and Regina was being guided out of the hospital and into her parents' chauffeur driven car. She was in a sort of daze; paying little attention to what was around her. Mind racing but thoughts barely forming. The journey home was silent. Or rather, Regina didn't hear the questions asked of her. Eventually her parents gave up and rode the rest of the journey mute, just like their daughter.

It wasn't until her father tapped her on the shoulder that Regina realised they were in their garage. She climbed out of the door her mother was holding open for her and walked, stupefied, into the house. Without a word, she ascended the sweeping staircase and headed for her bedroom. The door snapped shut. Henry and Cora, stood at the bottom of the steps, exchanged worried glances.

* * *

Emma was silent as she walked into the police station. There was no sign of Lily and Peter who had been put into different vehicles at the airfield. She stood, mute, as an officer performed a complete pat down. The list of items on her inventory was pitiful. Two bobby pins which had been in her jeans pocket, a cheap, tarnished pendant in the shape of a swan and a thin piece of leather which she had worn wrapped around her wrist for the past year.

Once that humiliating process was complete, she was shepherded into a small office to complete her booking. Her handcuffs were secured to the table in the middle of the room and she sat, waiting until a large police officer waddled inside with a laptop tucked under one arm.

"Right," she said as she slumped into the chair on the far side of the table which creaked as the woman's weight was placed on four spindly legs. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Emma didn't answer. Surely it was a rhetorical question.

"Name?"

"Emma Swan."

"Date of birth?"

"October 23rd, 2001."

"Address?"

"Don't have one," Emma replied.

The police officer looked over the top of her glasses. "Where do you live?"

"Nowhere."

"Where do you sleep?"

"Wherever I can find a space for the night," Emma shrugged. "Central Park, usually."

"Last known address then."

"I dunno. I can't remember. It was a group home for foster kids in Tallahassee. I wasn't there long enough to learn the address."

"You were in the foster system?"

Emma nodded.

"Then we'll have a state record," the police officer said, more to herself than to Emma. As the woman started tapping on the keypad, Emma continued to stare at her knees, trying to sort through the emotions swirling through her head.

She knew she should be focusing on herself. Her future, her fate. She was under arrest. Charged with serious felonies. She had no future. At least, not a future which involved freedom. That's what her mind should have been thinking about. But deep brown eyes, sparkling with tears and feelings and tenderness swam to the forefront, eclipsing anything else. Regina. Where was she? Was she ok? Was she traumatised? Of course she was, Emma scoffed to herself. The police officer glanced at her from across the table. The scoff had been audible.

Never again would she see Regina, Emma was sure. Except perhaps at a trial. The thought that the next and only other time she would ever see the beautiful brunette was testifying against her in a criminal proceedings sent a stab of sadness through her heart. It wasn't as if she didn't think she deserved it. She did. She was guilty. She had committed armed robbery. She had, at Neal's instructions, kidnapped Regina and held many others hostage. She may not have been the one who pulled the trigger whose bullet had killed an innocent man but Lily was her friend. She had brought her onto the team. It was her fault. It was all her fault.

"Wait here," the police officer said, as if Emma had a choice. "I've got to make a call to Florida for your records."

The woman stood up, stretched and wandered out of the room to the other side of the bullpen which Emma could see through the large window. Resigned to waiting longer, she continued to gaze at her grubby, scuffed knees, her entire body aching with regret and loss.

* * *

"I should go up," Henry said, fingers tapping on the dining room table.

"Are you sure?" Cora asked, sipping her own strong coffee which one of their household staff had made. "Don't you think she needs space?"

"Maybe but I need to see her. I need to know our princess is ok. She hasn't said anything Cora. And you saw what happened with that … that girl at the airfield. What was that? Stockholm Syndrome?"

"I don't think you can get Stockholm Syndrome after two hours," Cora replied.

"Then what was it?" Henry said. "I mean, the way she hugged her. That girl is a criminal. She's the one who held Regina hostage and she was hugging her? I don't understand. I need to know what happened."

Getting to his feet before his wife could say another word, Henry poured a cup of tea and slid several cookies onto a plate to take to his daughter. Cora didn't follow as he left the room. Her husband and daughter had always shared a special bond. She loved both of them even more for it, although sometimes she couldn't help but feel a little left out. In that moment, however, she knew Regina needed her father, not her.

Outside Regina's door, Henry tapped lightly on the mahogany wood. "Princess, it's Daddy. Can I come it?"

There was no answer. He knocked again. After the third time was greeted with silence, Henry turned the door handle, entering his daughter's bedroom without permission for the first time in years. In that moment, making sure Regina was ok trumped her privacy.

The room was dark. Curtains drawn. Lights all off. The glow from the hallway illuminated the lump beneath the covers which was his little girl. He made his way inside, placing the tray with the tea and cookies on the side table before sitting down on the edge of the mattress. Regina didn't move.

"Regina?" he said softly, hand coming to rest on his daughter's hip. "I've brought you some tea and those chocolate cookies you like."

"I'm not hungry," Regina replied, words muffled by the downy pillow.

Henry sighed and adjusted himself further onto the bed. "Baby, you've not eaten anything for hours. Come on, just have some tea, at least."

Unable to disobey or disappoint her father, Regina heaved herself up and flopped back against the headboard. In the darkness of the room, her sutures were barely visible. Henry forced a smile and handed over the cup of steaming liquid. Regina took it with a murmur of thanks and blew across its surface several times before taking a sip.

"Regina, are you ok?" Henry asked.

"No, Daddy," Regina said, passing the cup back to him.

Of course she wasn't ok, Henry thought to himself. His daughter had been kidnapped and held at gunpoint for hours. What a stupid question.

"Can I get you anything?"

Regina shook her head and slipped back down, burrowing under the duvet once more. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep."

"Ok, Princess," Henry whispered. "I'll leave the tea and cookies here in case you change your mind. I'll be up in a while to check on you. If you want anything, just call down, ok?"

Regina said nothing as her father stood from the bed. There was a moment's hesitation and then the older man leaned over a pressed a kiss to his daughter's temple. "I love you," he murmured before turning and leaving the room. Out in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and allowed the tears he had been holding back to cascade down his cheeks.

* * *

The holding cell was loud. It was a Friday night and already drunkards were beginning to fill up the limited spaces. Emma pressed herself against the far wall, knees tucked up to her chin and feet resting on the wooden bench. She had glimpsed Peter an hour earlier, walking down the corridor to another holding cell. She still hadn't seen Lily.

When she had asked, the police officer hadn't told her what they were waiting for. She had been processed but not yet charged. Not officially. Although her rights had been read to her at the airfield, she knew there needed to be something more than that before she could be arraigned.

"Swan."

She looked up at the shout of her name and saw yet another police officer beckoning at her from the doorway to the cell. She stood and made her way over to the locked bars.

"Hold out your hands."

Emma stuffed her wrists through the bars and allowed the officer to put the cuffs back on her. Once they were secure, the door to the holding cell was opened and she was led out. Down the corridor, she kept her gaze on the floor as she was guided towards an interrogation room. Inside was a table and chair, much like the room she had been booked in. The mirror on one wall, however, she knew was two-way glass.

She was directed to sit in the chair, at which point the handcuffs were removed. The officer left without another word. Emma looked around. There was nothing else in the room. She glanced at the mirror and then averted her gaze. She didn't want to look at herself in that moment. A sense of shame and regret and remorse had filled her at the sight of her own face, framed with dirty blonde hair. She also didn't want to be unknowingly staring at the police officers who were about to interrogate her.

It wasn't long before the door opened again and yet another police officer appeared, this time a plain clothed detective.

"Good evening, Miss Swan," he said, glancing down at the notes he was carrying. "My name is Detective Parker. How are you doing?"

"I've been better," Emma replied, eyeing the man with suspicion.

"I can imagine," Parker said with a kind smile as he sat down. "Have you been advised of your rights?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "Um, can I get a lawyer?"

From everything she had ever watched on television, this seemed to be a smart move.

"Of course," Parker nodded. "But we'll have to wait a while before one arrives. Are you sure you don't want to talk to me now?"

"No," Emma said. "I think I should wait for a lawyer. I'm going to need one anyway, right?"

Detective Parker paused and then closed Emma's file. "Fine. We'll call an attorney for you. I presume you won't be hiring one yourself?"

"No," Emma replied. "I don't think my budget quite stretches to that."

Parker nodded and got to his feet. "Ok. Wait here and we'll see who's available. You may have to wait until morning though."

"Overnight? In that cell?"

"Yes," Parker replied. "Is that a problem?"

Emma narrowed her eyes. She knew the man was trying to get her to waive her right to a lawyer. "No, not a problem. I'd like a lawyer please."

"Fine," Parker said. "I'll be back in a while once we've made some calls."

He strode from the room leaving Emma alone for the first time in hours. A wave of exhaustion hit her and she leaned forwards, crossing her arms on the table as a makeshift pillow and closed her eyes. A tear slipped, unbidden, from beneath her lashes.

* * *

"Henry?"

The man looked up from where he was sat on the floor outside his daughter's bedroom at the concerned tone and wiped his face on the back of his hands. "Hey, honey," he said, forcing a smile for his wife. "Sorry, I … I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise, my love," Cora said, crouching down beside her husband. "How is she?"

"I don't know," Henry admitted. "She didn't say much."

Cora reached out and cupped her husband's cheek, feeling the stubble from the day's growth beneath her palm. "Give her time," she reassured him. "Zelena is on the phone. She's called three times since you came up here and I said I'd come to see if Regina will talk to her."

"You can ask," Henry shrugged, "but I don't think she wants to talk to anyone right now."

Nodding understandingly, Cora leaned forwards and placed a chaste kiss to Henry's lips before standing up and knocking on her daughter's door. Again, there was no answer but Henry waved his hand, encouraging the girl's mother to enter.

"Regina, sweetheart, Zelena is on the phone for you. Would you like to talk to her?" Cora asked in the dark room.

"No," came the croaked response.

"Regina, she's worried about you. She was with us outside the bank, you know. She was sent home when we came to the airfield but she wanted to come. She's really worried and I know she would like to speak to you and know you are really ok."

There was a pause, a huff and a "fine."

Cora stepped further into the room and crossed to her daughter's large bed. Regina rolled over to meet her and stretched out her slender arm to take the phone.

"Where's your cell?" Cora asked as she handed her own over.

"Got broken," Regina replied.

"Both of them?"

"Yeah," Regina said dully before placing her mother's cell to her ear. "Hey Zee."

The squeal from the other teenager reached Cora's ears and she couldn't help but smile faintly as she turned around and walked from the room, giving her daughter some privacy to speak to her best friend.

"She's talking to Zelena?" Henry asked, struggling to his feet as Cora re-emerged.

"I guess," Cora shrugged. "I suspect Zelena is going to do most of the talking. Her cell was broken; we should get her a new one."

"Yes," Henry nodded, pleased to have something to do which would help his daughter in some small way. "Good idea. I'll get Fitzgerald to go out and get one for her now."

With that, Henry turned and hurried off down the corridor. Cora hesitated a moment longer outside her daughter's room and then followed, realising she felt hungry at last. It was well past ten in the evening by then but the whole family had skipped dinner. Heading to the kitchen, Cora decided to have her staff make a spread for her, Henry and Regina, in case the teenager found her appetite again.

Laying in her bed, Regina stared up at the ceiling as her friend jabbered away. The questions Zelena asked never received a response and, eventually, Zelena gave up, promising to come over the following morning to see her best friend.

Once the call was over, Regina tossed the cell towards the foot of the bed and turned over, curling up into a tight ball and sobbing once more into her pillow.

* * *

A/N: I promise I will get our two ladies back together relatively soon!


	17. The Lawyers

A/N: Thanks for all your laptop well wishing. It's in a shop being "dried" but my boss is buying me a new one if it's unfixable so all is good again. Also, I have friends coming to visit for 10 days this week so there won't be a chapter on Wednesday for a couple of weeks, sorry!

* * *

Emma didn't sleep at all that night. After waiting for over an hour in the interrogation room, Detective Parker returned and announced that no public defender was available to come and represent the blonde. She suspected that was an outcome the detective was entirely aware of and his absence had merely been a ruse to try and frustrate Emma into talking without a lawyer.

To be fair, Emma thought to herself as she looked around the holding cell, predominantly filled with drunkards, an attorney wasn't going to do much good. Her guilt was evident. She had been apprehended at the scene and it would be impossible to deny her involvement. She wasn't sure she even wanted to deny it. She was guilty. Shouldn't she just plead and take her punishment? But something told her to stay put, keep quiet, wait it out.

The night in the holding cell had not only been uncomfortable and noisy but Emma had also felt vulnerable. She doubted anything would actually happen in the midst of a police precinct but she didn't like the way some of the drunk men were looking at her. She had pressed herself as close to the wall as possible and avoiding making eye contact. It was impossible to know how much time had passed as there was no window to the outside world and she couldn't see a clock but, eventually, morning seemed to come.

Emma didn't hold out much hope for a lawyer appearing for her that morning. Did lawyers work on a Saturday? She doubted it.

"Swan."

The bark of her name made her look up at once from staring at her scuffed shoes. Yet another police officer was standing by the bars and beckoned her over. She went, sticking her hands through the bars without prompting.

"Is my lawyer here?" she asked as the metal clicked into place.

"Yep," the officer said, opening the barred door so Emma could walk out into the bullpen.

The two of them entered an interrogation room, identical to the one she had spent a pointless, silent hour in the day before. This one, however, had a young man in a suit sat on one side of the table. Actually, young was an understatement, Emma decided as she was uncuffed. This was a boy, barely through puberty. Surely, surely he wasn't her lawyer.

"Good morning, Miss Swan," he said, extending his hand towards her. "I'm Jackson Dawes, your attorney."

Great, Emma thought to herself as she shook his hand. What use was this child going to be to her? But nevertheless, she sat down and listened to what he had to say.

"So, you've been charged with," he said slowly, rifling through the stack of papers in a file on the table, "um, armed robbery, is that right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Emma nodded. "Pretty sure they mentioned kidnapping and murder too."

"Ah yes," Jackson said, locating the piece of paper he needed at last. "Oh dear. So they arrested you at the scene. They have surveillance footage of you leaving the bank and on the airfield. Looks like an open and shut case to me. Your best bet is to plead guilty and express remorse."

Emma looked dumbfounded at the boy before her. Was that it? Was that his legal advice?

"I'm not pleading guilty to murder," Emma said eventually. "That wasn't me."

"Were you there?"

"Well, technically, I guess. I mean, I wasn't in the room."

"They'll charge you as an accomplice and add second degree felony murder to your crimes then," Jackson said. "Practically carries the same sentence."

"Practically?"

Jackson shrugged. "There's a few years difference but if you're charged with everything else it won't make much of an impact to the number of years you'll serve in the end."

"So … that's it? You can't do anything more for me?"

"Unless there's something you can tell me that might help, no. I mean, you're not denying your involvement, right?"

Emma hung her head. "No."

"And you're not suffering from any mental illnesses, right?"

"I don't think I'd be eligible for an insanity defence, no," Emma replied.

"Then, yeah, there's nothing more I can do for you. You'll be questioned now and you'll give your statement to the police before you're formally charged. You won't be arraigned until Monday though. Judges don't work at the weekend, unlike foolish public defenders," he added under his breath.

"But … it wasn't my idea," Emma said, a last ditch attempt.

"Whose idea was it?"

"Neal's," Emma said.

"Well perhaps you can testify against him and get some time off your sentence if he's trying to plead not guilty."

"Neal is dead," Emma said dully, ignoring the fact that this man evidently knew next to nothing about her case.

She recognised that she should feel more about the demise of her former friend. But perhaps there were only a limited number of emotions a human being was capable of feeling at any given time and currently hers were consumed with guilt, fear, confusion, anger, betrayal and regret. And … something else. Loss? Brown eyes swam into her mind, wide and earnest and full of something Emma didn't quite recognise.

* * *

Regina barely slept that night either. But she didn't move from her bed when morning came except to use her ensuite. Slipping back beneath the thick duvet, she snuggled beneath the warm covers again and closed her eyes. She didn't expect sleep to come but it was better than staring at the ceiling.

A knock on the door forced her to face the world.

"Regina, my princess. Danny is here to see you," her father's voice called through the door.

Danny. She had all but forgotten about him. Or at least he had barely entered her mind. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to see anyone, not even Zelena who had begged Regina to allow her to come over and visit the previous evening. She had told the redhead no, that she needed time. But she hadn't told Danny. She hadn't even spoken to him.

"I'll meet him downstairs, Daddy," she said eventually, not wanting the young man to see her looking so … dishevelled. "I just need to shower."

"Ok, Princess," her father said. "We'll see you in a bit. Would you like some breakfast?"

"No thank you," Regina replied as she forced herself out of bed and back into her ensuite.

She turned the shower's dial right up, the room filling with steam as she shed her satin sleepwear. Hissing slightly as the first few scalding drops met her skin, she inched her way slowly beneath the burning jets. Once her body grew accustomed, or numbed, to the heat, it was almost enjoyable. She made sure not to get her face wet, her sutures leaving her lip tender so she'd wash

in the sink afterwards. The rest of her body, however, she scrubbed.

It was the first shower she had had since the ordeal. She had gone straight to bed after returning from the hospital. She went through the rhythmic motions of shampooing and conditioning her hair first. Then, with her loofer loaded up with her favourite apple body wash, she set to work getting clean. She started at her feet, the suds building at once. Making her way up her slender

calves she washed away the events of the day before. She scrubbed harder at the side of her thigh where Emma's finger had brushed, tears forming at the memory.

Moving up, she scrubbed her thighs, then her stomach, skating over her breasts and sliding down each arm. The soap on her neck worked to remove any trace of the arms which had wrapped, had pressed against her skin. She scrubbed harder, tears leaking from her eyes and sliding down her cheeks to drip and join the shower water coiling down the drain. At last, she moved to wash between her legs before rinsing out the material and then her body. Even after the last of the bubbles had disappeared from view, she stood under the scorching water, allowing it to soak into her hair, eyes closed.

"Regina?"

The call through the closed door of her bathroom was from her mother.

"Yeah," she called back.

"Are you ok, sweetheart?"

"I'm fine," Regina replied.

"Danny is waiting for you." Even with everything Regina had gone through, Cora wanted to uphold the correct etiquette and it was rude to keep your visitors waiting, even if they were uninvited.

"I'm coming," Regina replied with a sigh as she reached for the tap and turned off the flow of water.

Stepping out of the shower, the cool air hit her burning skint, goosebumps erupting at once. Towelling herself down, Regina moved to the sink and washed her face quickly, careful to avoid her lip. She also avoided her reflection. Face clean, she moved through to her bedroom and began to get dressed. She knew she ought to make an effort for Danny but she didn't have the energy. She pulled on her favourite pair of jeans and picked up a t-shirt she had discarded on the floor a few days earlier. Before … everything.

With her hair towel-dried, she deemed herself presentable, or at least as presentable as she was going to be. Opening the door to her bedroom, she half expected to find one or both of her parents loitering in the corridor beyond but it was empty. Barefoot, she set off towards the sweeping staircase which led to the lower floor. In the entrance hall, she paused to listen, wondering where Danny would be waiting. Voices told her that he and her parents were in the front living room. She headed towards them.

"Regina," Danny said, jumping to his feet as soon as she poked her head around the doorframe. "Are you ok?"

Bad first question, Regina thought to herself as the young man walked towards her, arms outstretched. She let him envelop her, arms hanging loosely at her sides.

"Come and sit down," Danny said, guiding her to the couch, seeming not to care that she hadn't replied nor hugged him back. "Would you like some tea?"

"Coffee," Regina replied.

Danny set about pouring some of the rich caffeinated drink for her. Regina glanced at her parents who were sat on the couch opposite them.

"You look flushed," Cora said, taking in the reddish tinge to her daughter's tanned skin. "Are you sick?"

"Hot shower," Regina muttered, taking the cup of coffee with a nod of thanks.

"Your parents were telling me how brave you were, Regina," Danny said as he sat down next to the brunette. "You called 911?"

"Yeah," Regina nodded, sipping her coffee and ignoring the sting as the liquid hit her cut.

"Is that why they -?" He fell silent, eyes locked on the gash which had appeared overnight on the young woman's beautiful face.

"No," Regina replied shortly.

"Oh," Danny replied. "Um, does it hurt?"

"A bit."

"They didn't hurt you … anywhere else?"

"No."

"Good."

They fell silent. Danny looked uncomfortable after the stilted conversation had come to an end. Regina appeared not to notice and took another sip of her coffee.

"Regina, we got you a new phone," Henry said, pushing the box towards his daughter. "And last night Fitzgerald collected your

car. It's in the garage for you. Here's the key." He handed over the item. "And we've already backed the phone up from the cloud so it's like nothing happened."

Cora winced at her husband's poor choice of words. The loss of her cell phone wasn't going to be the traumatising element from the previous day, even for a twenty-first century teenager. But Regina said nothing and reached for the device with a nod of thanks.

"You lost your phone?" Danny asked. "Is that why you didn't text me?"

"Yeah," Regina nodded, taking the out he offered her. In reality, if her cells hadn't been broken, cracked under the angry, betrayed heel of Emma, it was doubtful the boy would have received a text.

For something to do, she slid the cell from its new box and turned it on. Her father was right; it was as if nothing had changed as the device fired up with her settings already configured. She clicked on her photo app, just to make sure, followed by her messages and then the contacts. A quick scroll through confirmed everything had imported successfully. Her eyes locked on one

name near the top of the list.

"I, um, I'm tired," Regina said. "Sorry, but I think I'm going to go back to bed."

She stood up, causing Danny to leap to his feet at once. "Of course, let me walk you up."

Regina nodded her agreement, if only to speed up the process of him leaving. The two of them left the room and walked up to her bedroom in silence. Outside the door, he paused.

"Thanks for coming to see me," Regina said, hand resting on the handle.

"Of course. I was worried."

Regina managed to force a smile at that. "I'm fine. Or I guess I will be. I'm tired now though."

"Ok, no problem. But … will you call me? You know, when you're feeling better?"

"Sure," Regina said. "Bye, Danny."

Before she could turn away, the man bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek. She knew it was supposed to be sweet but the gesture made her stomach coil. Rooted to the spot, she waited until he pulled back.

"Bye, Regina," he said, a lopsided smile on his face. She used to love that smile. It used to make her insides melt. But that morning she felt nothing.

Regina nodded briskly and turned her handle, stepping back into the darkness of her bedroom. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she pulled out her cell and made a call.

* * *

"Keep your answers brief. Tell the truth. And don't elaborate," Jackson had said to Emma when the detective appeared to take her statement.

She had done just that, guiding them through the events and answering their questions. It was over before she realised and she was escorted back to the holding cell, Jackson telling her he'd see her on Monday morning for the arraignment.

As the day wore on, the precinct became busier. The cell emptied somewhat as those who had been brought in drunk sobered up and left. Many of them had been locked up for their own good rather than for any specific crime and so, clutching their throbbing heads with their possessions returned to them, they shuffled out into the warm August air.

Only a few individuals remained with Emma. Lily and Peter were nowhere to be seen. They were deliberately being kept separate, she was sure of that. But what she didn't know is what was happening to them. Were they being charged with the same crimes as her? Had Lily told them she had been the one to fire the shot? Emma has said, truthfully in her interview, that she hadn't seen

the incident which had led to the death of a civilian.

"Excuse me," Emma said to a passing officer. The young woman paused and looked at her with visible distain. It was a look she had received numerous times since she had been living on the streets. "Um, please may I use the restroom?"

The officer begrudgingly went to retrieve the key to the holding cell to let Emma out. These short walks to the bathroom were fast becoming the highlight of Emma's day; at least it was a chance to stretch her legs. Once they reached the toilets, her handcuffs were removed and the officer loitered outside the cubicle for her. The first time she had experienced this, Emma had felt self

conscious but now she just needed to pee.

"Are we getting fed soon?" she asked the officer as she washed her hands. She hadn't eaten anything since before the robbery and her stomach was growling angrily.

"Sure, soon, I guess," the officer said, reattaching Emma's handcuffs and leading her back out into the bullpen.

The blonde tried to relish the short walk to the holding cell. It was the closest thing to freedom she had in that moment. But it was impossible to forget about the cold metal pressed against the flesh of her wrists. She wasn't free, far from it. Back in the cage, for that was what the holding cell was, the cuffs were removed and she sat back down in the corner she now came to think of as 'hers'.

With the lecherous drunk men from the day before gone, she closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep.

* * *

As soon as the call was made, Regina changed her clothes. She replaced her t-shirt with a cream silk blouse, a black camisole underneath making the plunging neckline presentable. She paired this with a black pencil skirt before trying to style her half dried hair. It wasn't as perfect as it usually was, she mused as she gazed into the mirror, but it would do.

She decided to forego lipstick but gently poked at the sutured skin, just to test it. The action produced a dull ache. With a little eyeliner in place and her new cell phone stuffed into a handbag, she was ready.

The only questions now was how to get out of the house without her parents seeing. Regina didn't usually sneak around behind her parents' backs and their trust in her and her own responsibility earned her relative freedom. The day after she had been held hostage, however, Regina presumed she wouldn't be allowed to go galavanting around the city. And she also knew they would not approve of her plans were they to discover the details.

Leaving her room, she crept, for there was no other word for it, along the hallway and paused at the top of the stairs. Everything was silent. She made her way down barefoot before pausing again. Nothing. Crossing to the door which led to the garage, Regina slipped her feet into some black pumps and let herself, quietly out of the house.

There was something strange about being back in her car. This was the last environment she had been in before everything changed. In fact, she remembered, it was because of her car that she had been at the bank in the first place. Why did she have to be so materialistic? It was evident, even to a father who gave his daughter everything, that there was nothing wrong with the vehicle. But Regina had insisted and that stubbornness had led to the worst day of her life. Except … if

she hadn't gone, she wouldn't have met Emma.

Steering out of the garage and onto the busy New York street, Regina focused on her plan. It was a foolish plan, perhaps. And she knew the moment her parents found out there would be hell to play, coupled with, presumably the plan ceasing to be enacted. But she had to try.

When she pulled up outside the building, she could already see Tilly Bell waiting on the steps, squinting in the bright sunlight and looking disgruntled at being asked to work at the weekend. Regina climbed out of the car and waved before crossing the street and climbing up to meet the petite blonde.

"Hey Tink," Regina said, using the woman's nickname. She couldn't remember the origin of it but her parents always referred to the attorney in such a way.

"Hi," Tink said, forcing a smile as she took in Regina. "I heard what happened. How are you?"

Regina shrugged. She still wasn't sure how to answer that question. "Have you been inside yet?"

"No, I was waiting for you. Are you sure you don't want your parents here. Wouldn't they want to know what's happening as much as you do?"

Regina had specifically requested that the family lawyer did not call her parents when she had asked her to meet her at the precinct. She and Tink had always got on well, and Regina wasn't exactly a problem teen so the lawyer didn't have to spend her evenings bailing her out of holding.

As a result, she had complied with the request.

"Let's go in," Regina said, ignoring the question.

Tink hesitated for a moment and then continued up the steps and into the police precinct. Regina hot on her heels. The inside of the large building was cool; a welcome escape from the climbing August heat. Regina looked around and wondered for a moment whether she was doing the right thing. But then the sergeant manning the front desk beckoned them forwards and the two women approached.

"Hello, I'm Tilly Bell and this is Regina Mills. We're here about the arrests made after the bank robbery," the attorney said before Regina could speak.

The sergeant's eyes snapped to Regina and widened in recognition. "Miss Miss, yes, we have three offenders in custody. They're waiting to be arraigned in court on Monday morning."

"Good," Tink said. "What are the charges?"

But before the sergeant could answer, Regina jumped in. "Actually, we'd like to speak to one of them. Emma."

Both the sergeant and Tink looked at Regina, mouths open. It was Tink who found her words first.

"Excuse me?"

"I want you to represent her," Regina said to her lawyer. "I assume Emma hasn't secured her own legal aid yet?"

"Um, a public defender came to see her this morning," the sergeant said, having been the one to sign in Jackson Dawes a couple of hours earlier. "She's in holding until the court appearance on Monday."

"So we can see her?"

The sergeant glanced at Tink, thoroughly confused. The lawyer held up a single finger, indicating that the sergeant should wait and pulled Regina away from the desk.

"Hey, what the hell? You brought me down to represent the person who did that," she pointed to Regina's lip, "to you?"

"Emma didn't do this. She was the one who was kind to me. She protected me. I probably owe her my life."

"But she was still part of the group of armed criminals who robbed a bank and kidnapped you, right? Just so I'm clear on the details."

Regina narrowed her eyes at the sarcastic tone. "I was under the impression that you work for me and my family on retainer. Which means that whichever legal issue we require assistance with, you're ready to represent us, correct?"

"Yes, Regina, I work for the Mills family, not this Emma person."

"And if I tell you to represent Emma, is that not an order from a client?" Regina asked, arms folded across her racing chest.

"I … no, Regina, that's not how it works. And what on earth do you think your parents are going to say about this."

Tink went to reach for her cell but Regina's hand stilled the movement. "No, don't call them."

There was a hesitation as Tink took in the conflicted emotions on Regina's face before the cell returned to her bag. "Regina, I can't do this."

Regina hung her head. It wasn't as if she had thought Tink would go along with her plan at once. Clearly it was insane. But she had to try.

"Will … will you just meet with her? I promise you she's not the monster you're imagining. She's just a scared kid who got with the wrong people. I know she's going to have to face the consequences of what happened yesterday but she doesn't deserve to be punished as harshly as I know my father and the commissioner are going to push for. She needs someone on her side, in her corner. Emma's never had that and for once in her life, she needs someone fighting for her future."

There was another long pause as Tink looked at the earnest eighteen year old. She and Regina weren't particularly close but she could tell that this request, that this person, meant a lot to the young woman.

"Fine," she said eventually. "I'll meet with her. But it goes no further than that until I speak to your parents. I kinda like working for you guys, even if you come to me with ridiculous requests, and I don't want to lose my job."

"Deal, thank you Tink," Regina said, a sigh of relief escaping.

Tink nodded and returned to the sergeant. "We'll be needing a private room with Emma. I'm considering representing her."

The eyebrows on the sergeant rose so high they disappeared under her fringe but eventually she picked up the phone and made a call. "Go on up," she said when the call had ended, waving to the stairs to the right of the desk.

* * *

There were thirty two iron bars on one side of the holding cell. The other side had forty eight bars. The two remaining walls were the bare bricks of the precinct. The ceiling tiles alternated between light and dark grey. There were thirty tiles across the the width of the bullpen and fifty six along the length. There were no windows. There were eight desks, only four of which were occupied by the weekend shift. A single pot plant in the corner was drooping sadly. Not long after they had been served their breakfast of toast and some fruit, someone splashed water onto the parched soil in the pot but Emma doubted the plant would be revived.

She was bored. It had been only two hours since her meeting with Dawes. How was she going to get through the next two days before her court appearance? That said, she knew the completion of that milestone would lead to the next stage. Without anyone to pay her bail, even if it was granted, she'd be sent to prison to await trial. Maybe the boring police precinct wasn't so bad after all.

The clicking of heels on the tiled floor made her look up. All the police officers wore sensible shoes, as if expecting a foot chase to break out any minute. Two women, her ears told her, had entered the space. The first to appear was a short blonde, dark rimmed glasses perched on her slender nose. She carried a large black handbag and the power suit told Emma immediately that

she was a lawyer.

Behind the lawyer, a second woman was walking, gaze scanning the bullpen as they entered. Emma let out a gasp and leapt to her feet as soon as she registered who it was. Her fellow companions turned to regard her with curiosity.

"Regina," Emma breathed out, making her way over to the bars and closer to the young brunette whose eyes had at last found her own.

* * *

A/N: someone said in a review that they could imagine a Tink being a lawyer so, here you go!


	18. The Conversations

A/N: Just FYI, I will go back over the last chapter and proof it again - have you ever tried to write on an ageing iPad while your minibus does 80mph over potholes? Hard! Anyway, I thought I got them all but I'm gonna review when I get a chance as you know I hate mistakes!

* * *

Regina overtook Tink as soon as she saw Emma, walking straight up to the cell and reaching for the blonde's hands which were resting on the bars.

"Hey," she said after a moment of allowing her gaze to drink in the sight of the blonde once more. "How are you?"

"Better now," Emma said, the corner of her mouth quirking into a smile for the first time in hours. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

Remembering her purpose for the visit, Regina turned and beckoned Tink forward. "This is Tilly Bell. She's our family attorney. I've asked her to speak with you."

The two blondes appraised one another. Emma's experience of lawyers in the systems and then that very morning had not been entirely positive, to say the least. She was suspicious of them; seeing their profession as overpaid and under effective for people like her. Tink, on the other hand, had little experience with criminal law and had not defended someone accused of a violent crime for years. She was remembering, as she took in the group of people behind Emma, why she had made the decision to transfer into corporate law. Although, she had to admit, Emma didn't look like a dangerous criminal

"I already have a lawyer," Emma replied to eventually.

"Let me guess. Public defender, barely out of diapers, told you to plead guilty and express remorse?" Tink asked, walking forwards to stand beside Regina whose fingers were still laced with Emma's.

"Something like that," Emma muttered, looking downcast.

"You've already given a statement?"

Emma nodded. "The lawyer told me to."

"Is that bad?" Regina asked.

"Depends what Emma said," Tink replied. "Officer," she added, turning to the uniformed cop who was standing there waiting to receive instructions about Emma, "can you please let this woman out and get us a private meeting room?"

The man complied at once. Men usually did what Tink wanted. It was one of the reasons she was such a good lawyer. She flashed him a dazzling smile as she stepped back to allow him to do his job. Regina did the same, her fingers leaving Emma's at last. She watched as the blonde obediently stuck her hands through the bars so she could be cuffed. Her stomach clenched as she noticed the tinge of embarrassment on the young woman's high cheekbones.

"This way, ma'am," the officer said to Tink once he had unlocked the cell for Emma to step out and locked it again.

The two free women followed the cop and Emma down a corridor until they reached a small room. This one, unlike the others, had no two-way mirror. Nor did it have any windows to the outside world, giving it a dark and depressing vibe, even after the fluorescent strip light flickered to life. The officer deposited Emma in a chair and made to leave.

"Um, are you going to leave her cuffed?" Regina asked, eyes locked on the glinting metal around Emma's slender wrists.

The officer looked from Regina to Tink. After a moment, the latter nodded shortly and the officer returned to uncuff Emma. Once that task was complete, he left. Regina and Tink took the chairs opposite the blonde who was looking down at her lap, picking her nails, embarrassment suddenly overwhelming her.

"How are you?" Regina asked again quietly.

The blonde's shoulders rose and fell dramatically as she took a deep breath before looking up. "I'm ok." The relief and happiness and excitement and something which stirred low in the pit of her belly at the sight of Regina mere minutes before had been replaced by guilt and embarrassment and shame. Her gaze drifted to Regina's lip. She could see the sutures across the damaged flesh. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Does it hurt?" Emma asked.

"No." It was a lie. Every time Regina spoke, the skin tugged slightly on the stitches. But she didn't want the young woman, already riddled with guilt, to know that. "Tink's going to help you, Emma," Regina said, reaching across the table towards the blonde and trying to smile.

"Well, I said I'd meet with you, Emma," Tink added, joining the conversation at last. "Miss Mills doesn't actually pay my retainer so we don't want you getting your hopes up. This is just a discussion right now before I can talk with Mr and Mrs Mills."

"Your parents?" Emma asked, fingers still curled in her lap, leaving Regina's hand lonely in the middle of the table.

"Yeah," Regina nodded.

"They're not going to pay for a lawyer for the person who kidnapped their daughter," Emma said dully, gaze falling back to her knees.

"Hey," Regina said, "you didn't kidnap me."

Emma let out a bark of laughter and looked up once more. "Um, I'm pretty sure what happened yesterday was the definition of a kidnapping, Regina."

"Yes but it wasn't your idea."

"The person whose idea it was is dead," Emma reminded her. "The cops need someone to pin this on and it looks like Neal left us to take the fall."

Regina looked sideways at Tink, a silent plea for help. The lawyer hesitated for a moment and then lent forwards, elbows on the table.

"Emma," she began, "I don't think there's any merit in debating what did or didn't happen yesterday. The key is to paint a picture of why it happened. I mean, you didn't wake up one morning and decide to rob a bank and kidnap Regina, right?"

"No, of course not," Emma said firmly.

"Then why not start by telling us both a little about what happened which led up to yesterday. I don't think we could quite call them mitigating circumstances but a sob story would go a long way towards encouraging a judge to be lenient in their sentence. I assume you have a sob story?"

Despite the clenching in her gut at the phrase, Emma nodded.

"Right, so let's start with that. Tell us how someone like you got mixed up with this Neal character."

Emma glanced at Regina who offered her an encouraging smile. The blonde hated talking about her past. She hated the pitying looks she received when people found out about her childhood. She avoided talking about her past whenever she could. The idea of telling Regina Mills her history was even worse than normal. She couldn't bear to see the mixture of sadness and pity she knew she'd receive.

"Emma, we're trying to help," Tink said after several seconds of silence. "Regina asked me to come here to help you and I, against my better judgement, agreed to hear you out. She said to me that you weren't the monster I was imagining nor that the press are portraying."

"The press?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, when you commit armed robbery and kidnap a billionaire's daughter, the press tend to find that interesting," Tink said, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Anyway, as I was saying, Regina asked me to meet with you and, to be honest, I'm glad I did. I'm not going to promise you anything and lord knows we've got one hell of a conversation with Mr Mills in the future but I think Regina may be right. You're not a monster, Emma, and you don't deserve to spend the rest of your life behind bars. So, why not tell us what happened so that when Regina and I explain our actions and our thoughts to the people who, ultimately, will be paying your legal fees, we'll have that sob story to tell them, ok?"

"Only if you stop calling it a sob story," Emma said with a frown. "I don't like people feeling sorry for me."

"Oh but that's what we want," Tink grinned. "The courtroom is a stage, Emma, and we want to be tugging on the heartstrings of the judge. Can you cry on cue? No, let's discuss that later. For now, tell me and Regina everything about your life."

And so, with another shuddering breath, Emma began.

* * *

The ticking of the grandfather clock echoed through the still, quiet living room. Henry and Cora had been sitting side by side ever since Daniel had popped his head around the door to say goodbye after escorting Regina upstairs. Henry was flicking through the pages of a day-old newspaper but not taking in any of the articles. Cora was replying to the medley of messages and emails she had received from concerned friends and family members in light of Regina's trauma.

"I should call Robert and Milah," Henry said after almost an hour of silence.

"And say what?" Cora asked, a hint of ice in her tone.

"I don't know," Henry said. "But we have to say something to them, right? I mean, their son is dead."

"Their son was shot holding our daughter at gunpoint," Cora replied. "He was a criminal and he was using Regina to commit his crime. He would have killed her if he needed to, Henry. Are you really sorry Neal is dead?"

"He didn't need to die, surely," Henry murmured. "I know what he did was wrong but I can't even imagine what Robert and Milah are going through right now. Neal was their son, no matter what he did."

Cora pursed her lips as she looked at her husband's earnest expression. His open, loving heart was one of the part of the man she loved the most but at times she didn't understand it. "Fine," she said eventually. "Call them."

Despite having his wife's agreement that the call needed to be made, Henry was hesitant. Cora was right. What was the correct thing to say to the parents of the a man who had been killed while holding your own daughter at gunpoint? But eventually he reached for his cell and found the number of his banker.

He stood as the cell began to connect the call, beginning to pace up and down the large living room. It was almost a minute before someone finally answered.

"Hello?"

"Milah?" Henry asked, barely recognising the quiet, dull tone of the female voice which answered.

"Yes," she replied.

"It's Henry," he offered. "Henry Mills."

"Oh, Henry, hello." The words were lifeless, as if the woman was speaking without thinking, without feeling.

"Um, how are you doing? How is Robert?"

"He's ok. He's still in the hospital. Concussion. I'm about to go and visit him."

"Please send him our best," Henry said. "And our condolences."

There was a hitch in the breath of the woman on the other end of the call. "Thank you," Milah said at last. "How is, um … how is Regina?"

It was clear the woman felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and responsibility for what her son had done. Perhaps it was justified, perhaps it wasn't. But even as a grieving mother, Milah wanted to know that the victim of her son's final act was ok.

"She's ok, thank you," Henry replied. "She's upstairs resting."

"Good," Milah said absentmindedly. "That's good."

There was a pause. Neither one of them had anything left to say. "Well, I'll let you head out to see Robert. Please send him our regards and I guess I'll be in touch soon."

"Yes," Milah replied. "Thank you. Goodbye."

"Milah," Henry said before the woman could hang up. "I'm sorry for your loss."

The sob was unmistakable. Henry felt his heart clench at the evident display of grief and sorrow. "I'm sorry too," Milah choked out after a moment. "For everything that happened, Henry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Tell Cora I'm sorry too. And Regina. I've … I've got to go."

Before Henry could say another word, the woman hung up. The man stared at his cell for a moment and then at his wife.

"Well?" Cora asked, having only heard one side of the conversation.

"I need to hug our daughter," Henry said, voice trembling with emotions.

He headed out of the room. Cora itched to follow him but wanted to give the man space. It was his friend's son who had been killed, who had held their daughter hostage. She settled back onto the couch and continued her life admin but barely a minute had gone by when he heard Henry's panicked tones calling her name. She sprang to her feet at once and raced towards the shouts.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she swung around the doorframe into Regina's bedroom to find the bed covers strewn across the room and her husband rummaging through their teenage daughter's wardrobe.

"Regina," he panted, face white as he emerged from the walk-in closet. "She's gone."

* * *

Over an hour after the blonde had begun to talk, the three of them emerged from the private room, Emma escorted by a police officer and back in her handcuffs once more. Regina said nothing as they walked through the bullpen to the holding cell. Tink was sending a text to her friend about their plans later that night. The lawyer's personal motto of work hard, play hard, wasn't going to be affected by the story she had just heard from the blonde.

As they waited for the gate to the cell to be unlocked, Emma turned to look at Regina. It was the first real time they had made eye contact since the blonde had started talking. She had stared at her twisting fingers mostly, or a cobweb which had been wafting gently in the corner of the room. Regina tried to force a smile as green eyes scanned her face, searching for a sign of what came next.

"I'll come back tomorrow," Regina murmured.

"Really?" Emma asked, sceptical. No one had ever kept their word to her in the past. She was used to being let down.

"I promise," Regina nodded, moving forwards and reaching for Emma's cuffed hands. But the blonde pulled away; she didn't want Regina to feel how cold the metal was against her skin.

"Thanks," Emma said quietly. "For bringing your lawyer here, I mean."

"I want to help," Regina said. "I want to help you get out of this."

"Yeah, well, I doubt your parents will agree."

It had been the last thing Tink had said to Emma before their meeting closed. Nothing was going to happen without the permission of Regina's parents. It was Mr and Mrs Mills who paid the lawyer's retainer, not their teenage daughter and as such Regina was not in a position to guarantee that Emma could be represented by the petite blonde. However, Tink had said, if the Mills' were in agreement, then she would take the case.

"I'll talk to them," Regina insisted. "They will understand."

"They won't," Emma replied as the metal door swung open and the office gestured for her to walk inside.

Turning, she stepped forwards but Regina's arms around her body stopped her movement. Emma froze, the brunette's grip encircling her for the second time in twenty-four hours. She wished, once again, that she could hug her back.

"Miss Mills," the officer said sharply.

Regina pulled back, reluctant but obedient. As she did so, however, her right hand slid down the length of Emma's arm to where the blonde's wrists were cuffed. She skated over the metal and down the side of the young woman's slender hand until she reached her pinkie, into which she entwined her own. A silent promise.

And then she was stepping away, the contact broken at last and Emma moved forwards into the cell. As soon as the door clanged shut, Regina felt tears spring to her eyes. She was glad Emma didn't turn around and see them but frowned at the fact that the blonde just stood on the other side of the door, staring blankly ahead.

"Regina, come on," Tink said after a moment.

Regina hesitated for a second before nodding and following the lawyer from the bullpen. It wasn't until the clacking of heels had faded completely that Emma turned around and faced the police precinct once more, her own green orbs sparkling with sadness.

* * *

The moment Regina stepped through the door from the garage into the main part of the mansion, her parents rushed towards her and engulfed her in a hug.

"Regina," her father said, his voice muffled in her hair. "Thank goodness you're ok. Where did you go?"

"Out," the brunette replied.

"Gina," her mother scolded lightly, her own face pressed into her daughter's shoulder. "You can't do that. Not now, not after what happened."

Regina said nothing and endured the hug until her parents had had their fill. When they finally stepped away, she offered them a weak smile and spread her arms wide. "I'm fine," she said softly. "See?"

"Where did you go?" Henry repeated again.

It was an inevitable conversation, Regina knew, but she had hoped to get more than a couple of feet inside the house before having it. She had managed to persuade Tink that the request had to come from Regina alone so the blonde lawyer had parted ways with the teen outside the police precinct with Regina promising to call her the moment she had spoken to her parents. And, most importantly, Regina had sworn to make sure both Mills' knew that Tink was not a part of the plan at all and had been hoodwinked (that was the word the lawyer insisted Regina use) into meeting with the girl who had kidnapped their daughter.

"I'm hungry," Regina said, realising that, for the first time since the previous afternoon, she was. "Can we get something to eat and I'll tell you?"

"Of course," Cora said. "What would you like?"

Regina shrugged. "Something cold. A salad maybe?"

Nodding at the request, Cora headed straight for the kitchen to begin instructing the idle house staff. Henry, meanwhile, steered his daughter into the living room where they had sat with Daniel and the two of them curled up on the couch together. It had been years since Regina had been held by her father in such a way. She nuzzled closer into his side, his arm around her shoulders and breathed in his familiar scent. Henry said nothing. Nor did Regina. Both were still rattled enough by the events of the day before to be content in silence in each other's company.

Cora returned soon and sat down opposite her daughter and husband. She smiled softly at the pair before turning her attention to Regina and nodding at her, a silent request for her to begin explaining where she had been. Extricating herself from her father's hug, she sat up and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I'm sorry I went out without telling you," she began.

"We called and called when we realised you weren't here. You didn't pick up," Henry said. "We were worried sick."

"Sorry, my phone was on silent," Regina said, pulling it out of her bag. "Wow. Seventeen missed calls, Daddy?"

"You were kidnapped and held at gunpoint yesterday, Princess. I'm allowed to be a little protective. And you're not allowed to go out without telling us where you're heading. That was the rule even before yesterday. You know that."

Regina hung her head. She hated the disappointed tone in her father's voice. But she also knew that if she had told her parents of her plan, they would never have let her go.

"I'm sorry," she offered. "I wanted to do something, to talk to someone first before I spoke to you about it."

"Something? Someone? It? What are you talking about?" Henry asked.

"Look, you have to promise not to get mad, ok?" Regina said, turning sideways on the couch and folding her legs beneath her as she gazed at her father.

"Why would I be mad?" he asked. "You're safe now. Nothing else matters to me. What did you do that makes you think I'd be mad?"

Regina bit her lip and turned towards her mother. "I went to see Emma."

Both her parents frowned for a moment, confused about who their daughter was talking about. After barely a second, however, the memory of the day before at the airfield washed over them and realisation struck them in unison. Their daughter running and hugging a young, dirty, cuffed blonde woman before she was sped away by the police, arrested for the kidnapping of Regina Mills.

"NO!" they both cried, aghast.

* * *

A/N: you will hear Emma's story, I promise. But I want to reveal that as part of the court proceedings, not yet. Sorry about the short chapter. Hosting and writing don't go well together. There won't be a chapter this Wednesday either but I'll do an extra long one on Sunday for you!


	19. The Request

A/N: Well, I was going to split this mammoth chapter into two but you have a 'Gem' of a reader to thank for the 6,700+ words you're about to dig into.

* * *

"Just hear me out," Regina said quickly, wanting to get a handle on the situation before her parents exploded even further.

"Regina, what were you thinking?" Cora asked, aghast.

The brunette took a deep breath before launching into the speech she had planned on the drive back home from the police precinct. She knew she only had one shot to persuade them to help Emma. They were running out of time to secure her a new lawyer before the court appearance on Monday and if the blonde walked in there with her public defender, her life would be over.

"What happened yesterday was … awful," she began. "I've never felt more scared in my life when those masked people appeared in the bank. I thought I was never going to see you again. I thought they were going to kill me."

"Princess -"

"Daddy, please, let me say this," Regina interrupted. "Yesterday was awful and I did think I was going to be killed. When she, Emma, first came into Mr Gold's office with the gun, I was terrified. But it didn't take me long to realise that Emma wasn't going to hurt me."

"She held you at gunpoint," Henry stated flatly.

"Yes, she did. But only because Neal told her to," Regina reasoned. "He would have hurt me, I'm sure. I mean … he did." Her fingers drifted up to her lip subconsciously. "But Emma wasn't, isn't, like that. When she was left alone with me, we started talking. She's just a kid. She got swept up into Neal's vendetta without even knowing what was happening or why it was happening. I'm not going to say she's blameless. She did agree to be part of a bank robbery but she never wanted anyone to get hurt."

"Yeah, well, whatever her intentions, you did get hurt," Cora pointed out.

Regina nodded in acknowledgement. "She tried to protect me though. When Neal hit me, Emma was the one who comforted me."

"Did she comfort you with a gun to your head too?" Henry asked.

The bite in her father's words, feeling the hatred the man radiated towards Emma made Regina wince. She understood how her parents perceived Emma but the brunette knew she had to try and make them understand that the young woman under arrest was not the monster they believed her to be.

"Emma saved me, Daddy. She tried to keep me safe."

"And why would she do that?" Cora asked.

"I … I don't know," Regina admitted. "I can't explain it. We kinda, I dunno, had a connection I guess." She could feel her cheeks heat up at the admittance. It was the first time she had voiced that there was something special between her and the young blonde.

"A connection?" both parents asked in unison, brows equally furrowed.

"Yeah," Regina nodded. "And I know you're gonna think I've got Stockholm Syndrome or something but that's not what this is."

"What is it then?" Henry asked.

Regina paused, searching for the right word to describe what she felt about Emma. There were a few words she could think of but they were too intense, the implications too emotionally deep to be uttered just yet.

"I can't really explain it, Daddy," she said at last. "We just connected, I guess. Yes, she walked into that bank ready to rob it but she did it because she was desperate and as soon as she realised why Neal really wanted to be there and what his plan was, she was furious. Neal betrayed her and as soon as that happened, she only did what he asked when he threatened me."

"She sounds fickle," Cora commented.

"She saved my life," Regina snapped. "And I saved hers. Everything I did after we left the bank and on the airfield was because Neal was threatening Emma's life. And everything she did was because Neal was threatening me. I know it sounds crazy and I hardly know her but Emma is the reason I'm alive right now and she deserves our help. I know she's made some mistakes and she's not denying that. But it's not right that she spends the rest of her life in jail because of something which we all know happened at the command of Neal Gold. Emma is better than what happened yesterday and I want to help ensure she has a future beyond the four walls of a prison cell."

There was a long silence. Henry and Cora glanced at one another, both trying to understand quite what was going on with their daughter and why she was so vehemently defending one of the criminals who had held her hostage the day before.

"Regina, sweetheart," Cora began, "I know your father and I can't begin to understand what you went through yesterday."

"No, you can't." It was a whisper, a confession of Regina's awareness that she was alone in that respect.

"But as a family we can't be involved in the legal defence of one of your captors," Cora continued.

"Mom," Regina pleaded, "Emma didn't capture me. She saved me."

"She did capture you, Princess," Henry said gently, trying to ensure her daughter understood.

"Technically, perhaps. But she didn't hurt me. Emma was the one who found out I had called 911. She didn't do anything. Well, she smashed my phones but nothing else. If Neal had found out, I would have much worse than a split lip."

"She … she found out you had called 911?" Henry asked.

"Yeah," Regina nodded. "She saw the cell on the table with the call still connected. She ended the call but didn't say anything so that the other hostage taker who was in the room didn't know what I'd done. She came back later and smashed my phones but not out of anger it was more … betrayal."

"Betrayal? Regina, you didn't betray this girl."

"No but she thought I had. I could see it in her eyes. I told you, we have this … bond and me calling the police was a betrayal of that bond. That's why I can't leave her to our legal system. It'll chew her up and spit her out. Without our help, her life is over."

"And you don't think she deserves that? After what she did to you?" Henry's voice was tinged with anger this time, remembering the trauma his daughter had gone through and the people who were responsible for it.

Regina shook her head. "It was a mistake."

"Putting salt in your coffee is a mistake. Forgetting to drop off the dry cleaning is a mistake. Robbing a bank at gunpoint is not a mistake, Regina," Cora replied.

"Ok, it's a big mistake."

"It's a crime," Henry amended. "A federal crime."

"She was desperate."

"Someone died. She killed someone."

"No, she didn't," Regina replied at once. "That wasn't Emma. And when she found out what had happened, she was just as shocked as I was. She didn't want anyone to get hurt."

"Well, you did. And someone died and a lot of other people was traumatised," Henry stated.

"And she regrets that. Emma's not trying to get out of her punishment. She knows she did wrong and she's willing to pay the price. I just don't think the price should be the rest of her life spent behind bars."

"It's what she deserves."

"No, Daddy, it isn't. Please, trust me on that. If you met her, if you just spoke to her, I think you'd understand."

Cora's eyebrows rose. "You want us to meet this girl?"

"Yes," Regina said. "Tink thought the same as you before she met Emma. Please, sit down with her and just talk. She'll answer any questions you have but please, please give her a chance. You owe her that. I told you, she saved my life."

Once again, the two older Mills' looked at one another, a silent conversation occurring between their eyes. But it wasn't enough.

"Let us discuss it in private, ok?" Henry said eventually, unable to deny his daughter's request.

"Yes," Regina said at once. "Take your time. Except you have to decide before tomorrow evening. Emma's being arraigned on Monday morning and Tink wants time to prepare."

"Tink agreed to represent Emma?" Cora asked.

"With your blessing, yes," Regina nodded.

Their blessing. Henry and Cora exchanged another glance. Was that what they were being asked for? Their blessing to pay their own lawyer to represent the criminal who had kidnapped and held their daughter hostage?

* * *

Emma pushed the beige food around the metal platter before finally shovelling some onto the plastic fork and eating it. The taste wasn't as bad as she had expected but she wasn't quite able to identify what meal she had been served. The cell was quiet as the small group ate their lunch. Emma wasn't hungry but she knew she needed to eat. Once her plate was cleared, she placed it on the bench beside her and went back to her day dreaming.

What would happen to her? There were two possible outcomes, she had decided. Either she would appear in court on Monday morning with a lawyer who was barely out of diapers and plead guilty to her crimes before being handed a prison sentence which was inevitably in the double digits. Or Regina would return.

She wasn't naïve enough to think that Regina's lawyer could get her off scot-free, no matter how high the legal fees inevitably were. She had committed a crime and there no denying that. A plea of not guilty was impossible. But there were mitigating circumstances, as Tink had said. It wasn't an excuse, or perhaps it was. Emma hated the idea of making an excuse for what had happened that day. While the events which had unfolded hadn't gone as planned, at least from her point of view, she didn't want to excuse her actions.

Perhaps it was a point of pride, or her conscience. Denying what she had done, or trying to somehow validate her actions wasn't an option. She wanted to take responsibility, be held to account. But she also wanted a life, a future. With the full weight of the NYPD bearing down on the case, thanks to Regina's father's connections, any sort of future for the blonde was looking pretty bleak in that moment.

Did she deserve a great lawyer? Probably not. Did she deserve a life behind bars? Perhaps. Regina's face popped into her brain, unbidden. Her voice echoed in her memory. 'You're not a monster, Emma, and you don't deserve to spend the rest of your life behind bars.'

But she was already behind bars. She gazed out at the quiet bullpen, feet on the edge of the hard wooden bench and knees tucked under her chin. Was this it? Was this what her life would be from now on? She wrapped her arms around her shins and pressed her forehead to her legs, letting out a trembling sigh of resignation.

* * *

For over a minute after Regina excused herself and left the living room, Henry and Cora sat in silence. It was a lot to process. Everything which had happened in the past twenty-four hours had been intense and now their daughter was asking them to provide legal representation for one of the people responsible for what happened. What was the right reaction to that?

"What do we do?" Henry asked quietly, breaking the silence at last.

"What do you mean?" Cora replied. "Are you considering what our daughter just asked of us?"

Henry hesitated then nodded. "We have to consider it, don't we?"

"No, Henry, we don't. Regina is asking us to defend a criminal."

"Represent, not defend," Henry pointed out. "It sounds like this Emma isn't pleading not guilty."

"No, because she is guilty. Of kidnapping Regina, our daughter, in case your forgot."

Henry's features darkened. "Of course I haven't forgotten."

"And yet you're contemplating allow our family's lawyer to represent her?"

"Regina asked us to -"

"Regina has just been through a lot," Cora interrupted. "There's obviously some ongoing trauma from yesterday. She doesn't understand what she's saying."

Henry scoffed. "You think that speech didn't sound like she knew what she was saying? Cora, our daughter has many talents and presenting a good argument is one of them. She'd make a talented lawyer herself, you know."

"Then let her represent this criminal. I'm not paying Tink to do it," Cora replied, arms folded.

"Hey, it's not like I'm jumping to do what she says but we have to consider it. If Regina is asking us, it matters to her. I … have you ever heard her talk like that about someone before?"

"What do you mean?"

Henry shrugged. "I don't quite know. She was impassioned. I could see in her eyes how much it means to her."

"It?"

"Emma, I suppose. And I know that sounds crazy. I think Regina is confused by it too. If she was asking us to help Zelena or Daniel then I'd understand her desire but she's asking on behalf of someone she barely knows. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Yes," Cora nodded. "It tells me that our daughter needs therapy."

Henry sighed. "Perhaps she does need to talk to someone but right now I think she needs our support."

"She has our support," Cora pointed out. "She knows both of us would move heaven and earth for her."

"And yet we won't meet with someone she clearly shares some kind of connection with?"

Cora's eyebrows rose once more. "Are you saying you think we should meet with Emma?"

"Could it hurt?"

"It might hurt Emma when I punch her in the face for what she did to our daughter," Cora muttered darkly, standing up and beginning to pace the room.

Henry watched as his wife paced up and down. He knew she needed time to process. He did too. It wasn't as if he relished the idea of meeting with one of the people who had taken his daughter hostage. Hell, punching Emma in the face appealed to him as well. But there was something about the way his daughter had asked for his help, had pleaded for the support of him and his wife that gave him pause.

He doubted either of them would ever understand what their daughter had been through. The terror they had gone through as parents was surely eclipsed by what Regina herself had experienced. No doubt that would have some ongoing psychological impact on her young mind. Cora was probably right; Regina would need to talk to someone. But the way she had spoken about Emma, the way she had begged for their help, defended the young woman's actions, it wasn't trauma. It was something else. Something bigger, deeper.

"Fine."

Henry looked up to see that Cora had stopped pacing and was staring out of the window onto the busy New York street beyond.

"Fine?"

"If Regina wants us to meet with this Emma girl, then we will. But we're not promising her anything more than that. You, me and Tink will sit down with Emma for thirty minutes. Then we'll decide."

The door burst open and Regina appeared, a broad smile on her face. "Really?"

Cora frowned. "It's rude to eavesdrop," she scolded, even though she couldn't deny that it was good to see her daughter smiling again. The reason behind what had made her smile, however, was a little disturbing.

"Sorry," Regina said quickly. "But you'll do it? You'll meet Emma?"

"Meet, yes," Cora nodded. "I'll call Tink and get her to set up an appointment tomorrow morning. We'll go after church. But I'm not promising anything more than that."

Regina squealed and rushed to her mother and hugged her tightly. She might have been daddy's little girl but when it came to this request, she knew nothing would be possible without her mother's agreement. Cora embraced her daughter back, pulling her tight against her and stroking her hair.

"Thank you," Regina whispered before she pulled away and moved to hug her father who was still sat on the couch. "Thank you, Daddy," she added, burrowing her face into his broad chest and inhaling the scent which reminded her of home and love and safety.

"You're welcome, Princess," Henry replied, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. "But as your mother said, we're meeting with her only. We're not promising anything yet."

"I know but things will change once you meet her," Regina said, words muffled into Henry's sternum.

"What is it about this girl?" Henry mused out loud, half to himself and half to his daughter.

Regina pulled back at the question, cheeks suddenly a little flushed. "I just think she deserves a chance," she shrugged, avoiding her father's eyes.

From the far side of the room, Cora observed the reaction of her daughter. If she didn't know any better, she'd say Regina was –

"Mrs Mills," came a timid voice from the doorway where one of their maids stood. "The salad is ready."

"Oh, right," Cora nodded, forgetting that she had asked the chef to prepare some food for her daughter. "Regina, are you hungry?"

"Famished," Regina nodded, getting to her feet and heading towards the dining room where no doubt the meal was waiting for her.

"Oh, and Miss West is here to see you Miss Mills," the maid added.

"Zelena?" Regina asked, pausing and turning to the maid.

"Yes, Miss," the maid nodded.

Regina rolled her eyes. "I told her I wasn't up for visitors yet. She never listens to me."

"She's concerned about you," Cora pointed out. "And you seemed to be up for visiting Emma earlier this morning. The least you can do is meet with your best friend."

The blush which had been fading from Regina's olive skin darkened once more and she looked a little guilty. "You're right, sorry. Valerie," she said, turning to the maid, "can you lay another place at the table?"

"Yes, Miss," Valerie said before disappearing back towards the kitchen.

Regina diverted her steps away from the dining room and towards the foyer where she knew Zelena would have been asked to wait. It was somewhat of a surprise that the redhead hadn't just burst in, she mused.

"Oh thank God you're alive," Zelena exclaimed as soon as Regina stepped into the cavernous entrance hall.

A second later, Zelena was wrapping her long limbs around the shorter woman, squeezing her so tightly Regina was struggling to draw breath. But it felt good and she hugged her back.

"Hi Zee," she said when she was finally released from the vice-like grip.

"What happened? What happened to your lip? Does it hurt? Did they hurt you? Where did they take you? Were they really going to fly off in your family jet?"

Regina chuckled at the barrage of questions and linked her arm through Zelena's before leading her towards the dining room. "Shall we eat while I tell you all the gory details?"

"Gory? What happened?" Zelena asked, eye lighting up in anticipation.

"Nothing," Regina replied. "Well, I guess I did almost see a guy get shot."

"You did? In the head? Did his brains splatter every- Oh, hi Mr and Mrs Mills," Zelena said, realising that Regina's parents were already sat at the dining table.

"Hello, Zelena dear," Cora said, a disapproving narrowing of her eyes the only sign that she had overhead the question.

Zelena plonked herself down in a chair as Regina circled to her usual seat. The four of them ate in silence. The redhead was burning to ask more questions but decided it wasn't appropriate to do so in front of her friend's parents and elected to wait until she and Regina could escape up to the brunette's room and talk in private. The meal seemed to go on forever, even though it was only a simple salad. Eventually, however, their plates were empty and she and Regina excused themselves. All but running up the stairs to Regina's bedroom, as soon as the two of them were alone, Zelena's fountain of questions started again.

"Woah, ok, I'll tell you everything but can you please shut up and let me get a word in edgeways?" Regina chuckled, flopping back on her bed and pressing her forearms against her eyes.

A moment later, the bed dipped beside her and she knew her friend had laid down too. "Sorry," Zelena whispered. "I just … yesterday was hell."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Regina replied dryly.

"I didn't mean for you," Zelena said. "Of course, you went through hell but it was awful for us too. We didn't know what was happening. We didn't know if you were hurt or even alive. I don't know how your parents held it together, to be honest. And then when they took you in the car? I just couldn't stop crying and your mom was amazing. You're her daughter and she was comforting me! I just couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

Regina rolled onto her right side and cracked her eyes open to see Zelena's cool grey orbs sparkling with tears gazing back at her. "Hey," she said, shuffling closer and throwing an arm over the redhead's slim waist. "It's ok. I'm ok."

Mirroring Regina's position, Zelena rolled onto her left side and pulled Regina into a one-armed hug. "I don't know what I would have done if you weren't," she sobbed into Regina's hair. "I've never been so scared in all my life."

"Me neither," Regina said, her own eyes now glittering.

It was true. Yesterday had been the scariest time of her life. She had been petrified. She had been tied up and held at gunpoint and threatened and hit in the face and in the middle of a police shootout. It had been horrific. And yet, when her mind was left to its own devices, those weren't the elements of her ordeal which they wandered to. Bright green eyes, tangled blonde hair, a grubby but warm little finger curled around her own, a strong, lithe body, the pounding of the young woman's heart in her ribcage as their chests pressed together.

"Zee," Regina said quietly as she pulled back. "I need to tell you something."

* * *

As Saturday night wore on, the holding cell became steadily more packed with inebriated individuals. Emma retreated into 'her corner' and tried to ignore the commotion going on in the cage and bullpen. It was impossible to sleep. The noise, the uncomfortable position, the twisting in her gut which had been present since Regina had walked away with her lawyer. Emma had tried to work out what the discomfort was. Guilt? Regret? Fear? Perhaps, or perhaps it was something more. Something she wasn't yet ready to name.

Emma didn't even realise it was morning until their breakfast was served. It was some sort of egg dish but whether the chef was aiming for an omelette or scrabbled eggs was unclear. She ate it anyway and then asked to go to the bathroom. The officer who escorted her sang tunelessly as she peed and washed her hands.

Glancing in the mirror, Emma grimaced at her appearance. Even living on the streets she tried to practice good personal hygiene and her current state was worse than usual. Her hair was greasy and lank. Her skin looked pale, despite the tan she had developed during the summer in the park. She raised a hand to wipe a smear of dirt from her cheek and wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant sight of her own nails.

"Hurry it up," the office barked, noting that Emma was no longer washing her hands and now seemed to be preening.

Giving up trying to make herself look presentable, the blonde turned from the sink and held out her hands to be cuffed once more. After that humiliation was complete, she and the officer left the bathroom. As soon as they returned to the bullpen, however, Emma stopped in her tracks at the sight which met her eyes.

Regina hadn't seen her yet; standing between her parents and talking to the lieutenant on duty. At least, Emma assumed the couple were her parents. She recognised them, even from behind, as the two people into whose arms Regina had been wrapped in at the airfield. They were also the two who had glared at her with unadulterated hatred when their daughter had hugged her so fiercely. Alongside the three Mills stood the small blonde lawyer. Did that mean –

"Emma," Regina gasped, turning around when the lieutenant pointed behind her.

The young woman didn't reply, suddenly embarrassed as she remembered what she had just seen when she looked in the mirror. Why hadn't she spent more time trying to get that dirt off her cheek? Regina, on the other hand, looked spectacular. The teen was clearly in her Sunday best, as were her parents. She was wearing a knee length black dress which was tight yet classy, cream kitten heels and carrying a small clutch bag. A cream and black blazer completed the ensemble.

The brunette's face, however, was where Emma focused. The soft smile, combined with an intense gaze made the younger woman forget where she was, what was happening and the dire state of her future. The twisting in her stomach lessened and the tension moved slightly lower, transforming into a different sort of heat entirely. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, squeezing her thighs together as she did so.

"Hi Emma," Tink said, offering the woman a smile. "Mr and Mrs Mills have agreed to talk with you. Are you ok to meet with us now?"

"Um, yes, I suppose," Emma said, stunned.

Despite the fact that Regina had promised she would come back the following day, Emma hadn't believed her. It wasn't that she didn't trust Regina. Weirdly, she probably trusted Regina more than anyone else in her life. Not that she thought of Regina as being in her life but, well, who else did she have? Even so, Emma had always been a pessimist and therefore she had not been expecting Regina to reappear, certainly not with her lawyer and her parents whom, despite the way they were glaring at her, seemed to be here to listen to her side of the story.

Following Regina and her little convoy, Emma and the police officer continued down the corridor. Outside the door of the private interview room, the group paused.

"Regina, you can wait in the family room," the lieutenant said to her.

"Can't I come in?" Regina asked, turning to her mother pleadingly.

"No," Cora replied. "We agreed. Your father and I will meet privately with Emma. You can wait until we've finished."

''But -"

"Regina," Cora snapped. "The deal was for your father and I to speak with Emma. Unless you want us to walk out of here right now, follow the lieutenant and we'll meet you afterwards."

Biting her bottom lip, Regina nodded once and stepped away from the door. Tink patted her on the shoulder, a silent 'I'll look after Emma'. As the group shuffled into the room, it took everything in Regina's willpower not to reach out and touch Emma. Green eyes locked on her own told her Emma felt the same. Once they were all inside, the lieutenant gently steered Regina away and into a colourful room filled with toys where they evidently interviewed children. Sitting down on the bright blue couch, Regina folded her arms and waited.

* * *

"You can uncuff her," Tink said just before the police officer left the room.

Cora and Henry looked at one another as the officer complied with the lawyer's request. Neither of them felt comfortable being in the room with a girl who had held their daughter hostage, let alone one who was not restrained. But they trusted Tink so if she thought it was safe, they weren't going to argue.

Once Emma's wrists were free, the blonde slid her hands from the table and ran her fingers through her greasy hair before balling together in her lap.

"So," Tink began. "Emma, this is Henry and Cora Mills. They're Regina's parents. Henry, Cora, this is Emma Swan. She's been charged with various crimes related to the events of yesterday."

"Yes, I'm aware," Cora said icily.

Emma blushed and looked down at her lap. This was a terrible idea. How on earth was she going to persuade the parents of the woman she had kidnapped to pay for her legal representation? There was no reason why they should even contemplate the request. It was absurd. The only reason they were there at all, she knew, was because of Regina. This was what Regina wanted, for reasons Emma couldn't quite fathom. Surely it was a bad idea, for everyone involved.

"I'm sorry," Emma said. "For everything. For what I did. For the fact that you're here. It's a stupid idea. I don't deserve anything from you. Tink, I'll just go."

Emma made to stand up but as she did so, the lawyer stood too. "Emma, sit down," she said, firmly but softly. "They've come here to hear you out. So, let's tell them what happened."

Sinking back into the chair, Emma returned her gaze to her lap, too ashamed to meet the glares of the couple before her. There was a long silence. Emma didn't know where to begin. Eventually, Tink spoke again.

"Emma, Regina has asked her parents to meet with you so that they can understand why their daughter doesn't think you are responsible for what happened yesterday. We're not committing to anything more than listening today but this is your chance to tell Mr and Mrs Mills what happened."

"You know what happened," Emma said, raising her head at last. "Didn't Regina tell you?"

"She did," Henry nodded, speaking for the first time. "She told us you saved her, protected her. Is that true?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"How?" Henry asked.

"I … I dunno. I stayed with her. I tried not to let Neal near her."

"He split her face open," Cora spat, "and held her at gunpoint. As did you."

"My gun wasn't loaded," Emma said quickly. "I took the bullets out. And I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to do any of that. When Neal hit Regina I wanted to kill him but he was so mad and all I could think to do was to get Regina out of there. Get her to safety."

"You were the one who was endangering her," Cora pointed out.

"No," Emma replied. "No, I never hurt Regina. I would never hurt Regina."

Henry cocked his head. "You tied her up, didn't you?"

The blonde swallowed. "I did. Neal told me to."

"Would you have jumped off a cliff if Neal had told you to?" Cora snarked.

Emma blushed. "Probably," she shrugged. "I've not had many people in my life who have looked out for me. Neal did, even if he did lie to us about his plans for the bank and use us to carry out some stupid revenge on his father. Had I known what his plan really was, I would never have agreed to it."

"But you were on board with robbing a bank and holding civilians at gunpoint for money?" Cora asked.

"Have you ever been so hungry that you can't sleep?" It was a rhetorical question. Just by looking at the three people on the other side of the table, Emma knew the answer was no. "Have you ever slept underneath a piece of cardboard in a tunnel? Have you ever been so cold your toes turn blue? I was desperate. It's no excuse. I wish I'd never done it. I wish a lot of things went differently yesterday but I thought it was my only option. Neal made me think it was our only option."

"There are always other ways," Cora replied. "Criminal behaviour and taking hostages is never the answer."

"I know," Emma sighed. "I know that now and I knew that then. The moment I saw your daughter I -"

The blonde stopped, not quite knowing how she was going to finish the sentence. She blushed. Henry's brow furrowed at the reaction and Cora remembered a similar flush gracing her daughter's face when she spoke about Emma the day before.

"As we've discussed," Tink said after a moment of silence, "Emma is not denying what happened nor her involvement. The armed robbery and the kidnapping are charges which must be brought but I do believe there are mitigating circumstances. Emma did help keep Regina safe, despite her role in what happened. And I've also come across some more information which may help. If you're willing to make a deal, Emma?"

"A deal?" Emma asked.

"What sort of deal?" Henry asked.

"The murder charge. A friend in the DA office told me it's being brought against a Lilith Page. The gun she had on her when she was arrested matches the bullet from the victim. We know she fired the shot. But she's denying it, pleading not guilty. If you testify against her and become a witness for the prosecution, we can get you a deal."

"Testify against Lily?"

"Yes," Tink nodded. "If you agree, I could get you a very favourable deal which -"

"Hold on," Cora interrupted. "Henry and I haven't even agreed to you representing Emma, Tink. Or are you taking on Emma's case pro bono?"

Tink had the good grace to look embarrassed. She had jumped the gun. "No, sorry, Mrs Mills. Even if you declined to permit me to represent Emma under the umbrella of your family's retainer, I wouldn't do this pro bono. I believe it would be a conflict of interest."

"Yes, it would be," Cora said, eyes narrowed.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Emma said flatly. "I'm not testifying against my friend."

"Emma, this is your get out of jail free card," Tink said.

"Which I don't deserve," Emma replied.

"We're in agreement there," Cora muttered, making Emma's cheeks burn red and the knot in her stomach tighten.

"I'm not testifying against Lily even if you could get me a deal. Mrs Mills is right. I deserve to be put away. I committed a crime. I caused Regina and many other people to fear for their lives. I have no interest in a deal. I'll take my punishment because I deserve it. Thank you for coming to listen to me, Mr and Mrs Mills. I'm grateful for your time and I'm very sorry for everything which happened yesterday. It is something I will regret for the rest of my life, which I'm willing to spend in prison if that's what the judge sees fit to decide. I never meant for anyone to get hurt but I know I was naïve to think our plan was a victimless crime. The fact that your daughter was one of those victims eats me alive. I don't pretend to know Regina well but I would never wish her harm. So for everything that happened, please know that I am truly sorry and I will never forgive myself for what happened."

Emma didn't know when she had started crying but she suddenly realised her cheeks were wet. She wiped at them with the palm of her hand, ducking her face in embarrassment. The trio opposite her said nothing for a long time. Emma just waited; waited for them to get up and walk out of her life, just like everyone else had done.

"How old are you?"

She raised her head and looked at Henry Mills who had asked the question. "Seventeen," she sniffed

"Life in prison is a long time at any age but you're just a kid," he mused.

"I'm old enough to know better."

"And your recognition of that is admirable."

Cora turned to look at her husband, frowning. She knew that look on his face. Her husband had always had a soft spot for the underdog. It was one of the reasons she loved him but if his big heart was about to do what she thought it was, she wasn't so sure she could support him.

"Are you attending school?"

"No," Emma replied. "I dropped out half way through tenth grade."

"Where do you live?"

"Nowhere."

"You're homeless?"

"I guess," Emma shrugged. "Or I was, anyway. That holding cell has started to feel more like home than anywhere else I could name."

"What about your parents?"

"I'm a foster kid," Emma said. "I ran away from the latest in a long line of families they placed me with last summer. Made my way to New York, wanted to start a fresh life for myself but I guess that didn't go to plan."

"I guess not," Henry said slowly.

"Henry," Cora muttered as her husband fell silent. She waited until the man looked at her before continuing. "What are you doing?"

"Listening," he replied. "As we promised our daughter we would."

Emma pretended she didn't hear the conversation on the opposite side of the table. She glanced at Tink, however, who was smiling.

"Mr Mills," the lawyer said. "Can I propose my defence theory to you?"

"Yes," Henry replied, turning from his scowling wife to the petite blonde.

"Emma needs to make a deal for her testimony against Lily which will reduce her sentence significantly. Without the murder charge, we can get prison time right down. Possibly to just a few months. With federal crimes like these, there's no way to obliterate prison sentences completely so if you think Emma will be getting off lightly, Cora, she'll still be going to prison." The woman in question pursed her lips but said nothing. "Emma can finish her GED in prison and then prepare to re-enter the real world as a productive member of society. That's what you want, right Emma?"

"I guess but I told you I'm not testifying against Lily."

"Not even if it stops you spending the rest of your life behind bars?"

"I -" Emma stopped. She didn't know how to answer that question posed by the lawyer. The idea of betraying her friend made her stomach drop but the thought of being trapped in a prison until she died was equally chilling. "Do I have to decide now?"

"The first to make a deal gets the worm," Tink replied. "If I know about Lily's charges, chances are Peter's lawyer will do too and if he agrees to testify, the deal I'll be able to get you will be much more limited."

"And we still haven't agreed to let you represent this criminal, Tink," Cora reminded the two blondes.

"Haven't you?" Tink asked, quirking an eyebrow and looking at Henry.

The man turned to his wife, almost shrinking at the stony expression on her face. He returned his attention to Emma. "You care for our daughter?"

"Yes," Emma nodded at once. "I know I only met her yesterday and it's not like we've spent much quality time together but yeah, I really like Regina. That's why I tried so hard to protect her and I'm only sorry I couldn't do more."

"Regina cares for you too."

"She does?"

"I think you know she does," Henry said, a gentle smile on his lips. "And I don't think our daughter would forgive us if we didn't at least offer to help you. Cora?"

He turned once more to his wife whose lips were pursed. She was annoyed about two things. Firstly, she abhorred the idea of assisting the woman who had been responsible for the worst day of her family's life. Secondly, she hated the fact that everything her husband said was true. It was evident that Regina did care for Emma and their refusal to allow Tink to represent the blonde would drive a wedge between them and their daughter.

"Fine," Cora said at last. "If it's what Regina wants, then fine. But we need you to know, Miss Swan, that what you did yesterday is unforgivable and something you deserve to be punished for."

"I know. I agree," Emma said. "Um, thank you."

Cora gave Emma a final once over before standing up. Tink remained seated. Henry got to his feet as well.

"Good luck, I suppose," he offered.

"Thank you," Emma said again. "And sorry."

Cora was already standing by the door. Henry shot Emma a sympathetic smile before following his wife.

* * *

A/N: I am working to get more scenes between our two ladies, I promise. It will happen!


	20. The Deal

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I usually write half of Wednesday's instalment at the weekend but due to the mammoth one I published, I didn't have time. Anyways, onwards and upwards.

* * *

At dinner that night, Regina announced to her parents she wanted to return to school the following day.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Henry asked, concerned it was too soon.

"I'm sure," Regina nodded. "Might as well get it over and done with, right? People are going to have endless questions and want to know what happened. I'm fine. I just want to keep busy and I will need to answer their probing questions sooner or later."

Henry and Cora exchanged a glance from either end of the long dining table around which they were sat. Regina's seat was exactly halfway between them.

"Ok," Cora agreed. "If that's what you really want."

Regina smiled her thanks and continued to eat her dinner. She felt a mix of guilt and excitement and apprehension. Guilt for lying to her parents, excitement at the prospect of seeing Emma again and apprehension at how the court appearance would pan out for the blonde. For it was to the courthouse Regina was intending to travel the following morning, not her school.

As soon as her plate was clean, she excused herself and headed for her room, navigating to call Zelena as she ascended.

"Hey," her friend said, answering just as Regina closed the door to her bedroom. "What's the plan?"

The redhead had been let in on Regina's idea to bunk off school so she could be at the court the previous afternoon when the two best friends had talked about Emma. Well, Regina had talked; Zelena had gaped.

"They've agreed to let me go to school," Regina said, flopping back onto her bed. "So I need you to cover for me."

"While you sneak off to see the hot blonde criminal in court?" Zelena asked. Regina could see the scandalised and excited expression her friend was wearing even though the phone.

"I'm going to be there to support Emma, yes," Regina replied, rolling her eyes. "So, can you cover for me?"

"Sure? How do you want me to play it?"

Regina had already thought of their plan. "The school is going to want to call my parents to find out how I'm doing if I'm not there. Can you say we want our privacy or something, so they don't chase up my absence? I don't need my parents finding out that I'm sneaking around their backs to see Emma?"

"You don't think they'd approve?"

"Of me being present in the courtroom while the woman who held me hostage pleads guilty or whatever is going to happen?"

"No, doofus, of how you feel about Emma?"

Regina blushed and rolled onto her side, curling up into a ball and sighing deeply. "I don't know how I feel about Emma," she admitted quietly.

The conversation she and Zelena had had the day before had been long but confusing. Regina hadn't been able to find the right words to describe the way she felt when she was with Emma. It was all too much, too fast, too intense. Zelena had tried to understand but Regina's garbled sentences hadn't made much sense. By the end of their two hour talk about the blonde, however, her best friend seemed to have come to a conclusion which Regina's own mind continued to evade.

"Yeah, you do," Zelena said. "Or at least you do deep down and you're not ready to accept it yet."

The brunette said nothing but let out another low sigh. Her friend was right; she wasn't ready to accept it, or face it, or give it a name.

"Are you scared because of what happened on Friday or because Emma's a girl?" Zelena asked.

Trust the redhead to cut right to the heart of the issue, Regina mused. The woman had no tact but her bluntness did at least mean that there was no bullshit when it came to important conversations. The day before she had remained mostly silent; listening and trying to understand the convoluted way Regina described the mysterious young blonde. Now, however, it was time for her best friend to hear the truth.

"Both," Regina shrugged at last. "I mean what about my parents?"

"You don't think they'd be ok with you being in a relationship with a woman?"

"Relationship? I think you're jumping the gun a bit there, Zee. Emma and I are … look, nothing's happening. Hell, she's going to prison. And I'm with Daniel. But no, I don't think my parents would care if I were in a relationship with a woman."

"But they'd care if that woman was the one who held you hostage, right?"

Regina winced at the blunt delivery but she couldn't deny the accuracy of the words. "They'll never accept her, will they? And I know I'm thinking way in the future and I don't even know if Emma feels the same way but if we did try to make a go of whatever it is that is between us, my parents aren't going to welcome her into our family with open arms are they? They hate her!"

"They agreed to let Tink represent her," Zelena pointed out.

"Because of me," Regina replied.

"Right, because you're the centre of their universe. If Emma's the person who makes you happy, surely your parents are going to be supportive of that. They only want what's best for you, Reggie. They're not going to stand in the way of your happiness. And if it's Emma who makes you happy, then they'll learn to accept it."

There was a long pause. Regina rolled onto her back and draped her forearm over her eyes, pressing lightly against her skull. "This is so fucked up."

"What? The fact that you're attracted to a woman or the fact that the woman is a criminal?"

"She's not a criminal."

"Yeah, she is," Zelena laughed. "It's ok, you must just have a thing for bad girls."

Regina let out a hollow chuckle. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I just have a thing for Emma."

It was the first time she had admitted it. Although it had been barely forty-eight hours since the two of them had met, to Regina it felt like an age. A lot had happened; a lot of life changing events had taken place, for both women. And while there were many unknowns and confusing elements, she was no longer able to deny that there was something, something intense, between the two of them.

"You need to tell Daniel," Zelena said softly.

"That I'm attracted to a woman?"

"Or just that you're no longer interested in dating. I mean, you guys were never official, right? But he needs to know you're never going to become a couple. It's not fair to him to keep stringing him along. The boy is besotted with you."

Regina wrinkled her nose. She knew Zelena was right; Daniel was obsessed with her and it was unfair of her to continue to give him false hope that their dating would develop into a relationship. It wasn't as if she was expecting her and Emma to become a couple but she was certainly more interested in pursuing that than whatever had been between her and Daniel.

"Yeah, I know," Regina sighed. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"After you see your bad girl?"

Regina scowled. "Don't call her that."

"Why not?"

"Because that's not the only thing that defines Emma. Yes, she's in some trouble now," Regina heard Zelena scoff on the other end of the call and continued anyway, "but there's so much more to her than the events of Friday. Wait til you meet her, Zee."

"Sure, I'll drive out to Rikers to meet your girlfriend."

"Apparently parking at Rikers is a nightmare. I'll probably get the bus out there."

"Oh my god you did research," Zelena laughed. "And you're willing to get on public transport for this girl. You're so in love.

"Shut up," Regina whined.

"Nope!" Zelena cackled. "Regina's in love! Regina's in love!"

"I hate you," Regina growled, knowing full well that neither herself nor Zelena believed the words.

"Love you too, babes," Zelena sing songed. "See you at lunch?"

"Yeah, I'll see you at lunch. And thanks for covering for me tomorrow."

"You're welcome, lover girl," Zelena said before hanging up the call and leaving Regina alone with her racing thoughts.

* * *

Emma tugged at the sleeves of the navy blue suit jacket Tink had thrust into her arms and told her to put on when she arrived at the courthouse that morning. She had made herself look as presentable as possible in the bathroom but without a shower, there wasn't much point.

"Ready?" Tink asked, poking her head around the doorframe. "I want to go over the deal with you. The prosecutor will be here in ten minutes."

"I told you," Emma sighed, allowing herself to be cuffed by the court martial, "I'm not making a deal."

"Whatever," Tink said, disappearing from the bathroom, knowing Emma and her chaperone would follow.

The trio marched down the wide corridor, Tink's heels clacking on the marble, until they were led into a small side room. "Can you make sure Hades knows we're in here please," Tink said to the martial as Emma was uncuffed.

"Who's Hades?" Emma asked.

"The DA," Tink said, sitting down and pulling several files from her briefcase.

"The man prosecuting my case is named after the lord of the underworld? Awesome," Emma grunted, taking the seat opposite her lawyer and folding her arms.

"I know, right? What a name. He should have been a defence attorney, actually. Evil little man."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Are you an evil woman?"

"I'm not a defence attorney, remember?" Tink said, locating the piece of paper she was looking for and pushing it across the table to Emma. "I'm just doing this for the Mills family. Read that."

"What is it?" she asked, picking it up and scanning the lines.

"The terms of the deal Hades is offering."

There was a short pause as Emma digested the document. "He'll drop the armed robbery charge?"

"Yep," Tink said, a smug smile on her face. "I mean, you never fired your weapon and the gun wasn't loaded when you were arrested so I think that's pretty convincing proof you never intended to use the gun."

"But I'm still being charged with kidnapping? Second degree? What does that mean?"

"We can't get out of that one, I'm afraid. The Police Commissioner seems pretty insistent that everyone involved serves time for what happened to Regina."

Emma hung her head, embarrassed. She deserved to be charged with kidnapping; After what Regina went through, Emma deserved to be punished.

"So, you'll make the deal?" Tink asked after a moment of silence.

"What?"

"Make the deal and I reckon I can get you a five year sentence."

"Five years? And I'd have to rat out a friend?" Emma asked, aghast. "No!"

"Emma, five years is the minimum sentence for second degree kidnapping. You'd be eligible for parole in half that with good behaviour. Without this deal and with the additional charges of armed robbery you're looking at twenty-five to life. It's a good deal, honestly."

"And Lily gets, what?"

"Life, obviously. She murdered someone. But the defence want corroboration, even though they don't exactly need it. Pretty open and shut case if you ask me. Nevertheless, they're offering you a deal and you'd be a fool not to take it."

"No, I'd be loyal," Emma retorted, shoving the paper back across the table.

Tink sighed. "Seriously? You wanna throw your life away for some street rat?"

Emma narrowed her eyes. "I guess that makes me a loyal street rat, huh?"

Oops, Tink thought. Perhaps she should have chosen her words more carefully. She leaned forwards, placing her elbows on the table and linking her fingers.

"Emma, do you want to have a life? Do you want to have some sort of future which doesn't involve the four walls of a cell?"

"What sort of question is that?" the blonde asked, exasperated at the situation, exhausted from too few hours of sleep, and still feeling guilty about the events which had gone down three days earlier.

"This, my dear," Tink said, pointing to the discarded piece of paper, "is the only way you're ever going to breathe fresh air before your fortieth birthday."

Emma got to her feet and stalked over to the small window which, although fitted with bars, gave her a view of the busy New York street beyond. She couldn't do it. She couldn't make a deal which landed her friend in prison just to set herself free, could she? There was a knock at the door. The DA. It seemed she didn't have much time to make this decision. Behind her, she heard Tink stand up and cross to open the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is Emma with you?"

The blonde whipped around at the sound of the familiar voice. What was Regina doing here? As that question raced around her mind, pushing all thoughts of sentencing and deals and parole from her mind, Tink opened the door wider and allowed the brunette to step inside.

"Emma," she said, a soft smile on her lips. "You look …," her eyes trailed up and down the suited blonde, "wow."

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked, unable to think of anything else to say as she drank in the beautiful young woman before her.

The smile faltered for a moment but was back in place almost instantly. "I wanted to be here with you. To support you, I guess."

"To support me? Why?"

Regina looked like she was trying to find the right words.

"Um, I'm not supposed to leave you two alone, what with you being the perp and the victim and all that," Tink said, "but I'm just going outside for a cigarette. Regina, while I'm gone, perhaps you can talk Emma into the best deal I've ever managed to get someone who is facing a life sentence, ok?"

"You're not taking the deal?" Regina asked, stepping further into the room as Tink left.

Emma waited until the door snapped shut before crossing back to her chair and sitting down. After a moment, Regina did the same and took the chair which Tink had vacated.

"No, I'm not," she said, pushing the paper towards Regina for her to read.

The brunette's eyes scanned the text quickly before looking back up at the blonde. "Emma, you have to take this deal," she said firmly.

"I don't have to do anything," Emma shot back, arms folded. "Lily is my friend. I'm not testifying against her."

"So you're going to go away for the rest of your life? Just to protect a criminal?"

Emma laughed. "I'm a criminal too, Regina, remember?"

"Yes but you're different."

"How?" Emma asked. "You think Lily didn't have a fucked up childhood. Or Peter or even Neal, come to that. We've all got shit in our pasts, Regina. We've all got a sob story. I'm not going to sell out my friends just so I can have a life I don't deserve."

"You do deserve it, Emma."

"I don't," the younger woman sighed.

"Yes, you do," Regina said, reaching across the table and placing her hands on top of Emma's which were fidgeting. "You deserve better than what life has handed you so far. You deserve a future. I know that. And I also know that … that I don't want to spend the rest of our lives visiting you in prison."

At last, green eyes finally met brown. Regina's heart skipped a beat.

* * *

A/N: I'm flying back to the UK on Monday and everything is a bit crazy but I will try to get a chapter up on Sunday for you and then write on the plane for a Wednesday chapter too!


	21. The Kiss

A/N: Sorry, I've been working all weekend so I didn't have time to write a long chapter for you. Wednesday's one will be written on a plane while I'm waiting for the effects of Valium to come into play so … enjoy!

* * *

There was a long, heavy silence. Emma's eyes skittered over the beautiful face before her, trying to understand, to recognise the significance behind what Regina had said. The brunette's cheeks became tinged with a delicate blush despite her olive complexion. Emma thought she had never looked more stunning.

"Visiting me?" Emma managed to say at last. "Why would you visit me?"

Regina shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "Honestly?"

"Please," Emma nodded, mirroring Regina's position. After everything that was happening, she just wanted people to tell it to her how it was. No hiding; no skirting around the truth. Just fact.

"I don't know. I don't know why I'm already thinking of visiting you in prison. But what I do know is that I want to see you again. And if you're going to be stuck somewhere for a few years, I guess that's what I'll have to do."

Emma ran her hands through her hair and then grimaced at the greasy locks she encountered. Her mind raced as she tried to process Regina's words. Glancing at the brunette who looked at little shocked at her own admittance, Emma got to her feet and paced over to the window once more, looking out onto the street again. People walked past, never glancing up at the courthouse and instead hurrying to their own destination. When would she next be free to walk wherever she wished? Would Regina be walking by her side?

"I don't understand," she said at last.

"Me neither," Regina replied.

Turning around, Emma folded her arms and leaned against the wall. "Well, at least we're in the same boat there then."

Regina smiled. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"I mean, you should hate me."

"I know," Regina nodded.

"But you're saying you want to … see me?"

Regina ducked her head, suddenly shy. "I guess. I mean, not 'see' you, but see you. Yeah."

"Why?"

The brunette shrugged again. Her mother would hate to see this new habit; not only because the action seemed to come out whenever she was around Emma. That said, shrugging would probably be the least of Regina's concerns if her mother was privy to their conversation in that moment.

"I can't answer that," Regina said at last. "I know it doesn't make sense and, after what happened on Friday, I should hate you and want you to be in prison for the rest of your life," Emma flinched, "but that's not how I feel."

"It isn't? It's how I feel," Emma said, a dark scowl over her features.

"You want to go to prison?"

"No, not exactly. But I know that's what I deserve."

"No," Regina said, standing up. "You don't deserve that. What happened was not your fault. It was Neal and Lily, not you. If it wasn't for you, I don't know if I'd be alive today. You saved me Emma, now let me save you."

Emma regarded the young woman who had taken several steps towards her but stopped with a few metres still between them. "Save me?" The term sat uncomfortably with her. Emma Swan didn't depend on anyone. She had learned at a young age not to rely on any person other than herself. She couldn't put her faith in Regina, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Emma, you need help. Let me help you. Tink can get you a great deal. Yes, you'd have to spend some time in prison, but five years is nothing compared to a lifetime."

"To get that deal, I'd have to rat out a friend," Emma pointed out.

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Friend? Emma, she killed someone."

"She didn't mean to."

"Oh really? What did she think was going to happen when she pulled the trigger? Come on, Emma, you know Lily deserves to be punished."

"But so do I."

"And this deal doesn't get you off the hook. You'll still serve time and have a record. Don't worry, your stubborn morals will still be intact."

"Stubborn morals?" Emma asked, smirking.

Regina grinned. "I doubt there are many criminals who insist on being punished, especially when they're being offer a get-out-of-jail-free card."

"Well, in five years."

"Two with good behaviour," Regina pointed out.

"If I rat out Lily."

Regina sighed and moved forwards, stopping only when she was right in front of Emma. The blonde's eyes widened at the sudden proximity. "Emma, please, think about yourself for once. This sense of righteousness is cute and all, but can't you think about your own future?"

"Righteousness is cute?"

"On you, yeah."

So close up, Emma could see the vibrancy of the pinked skin on the soft cheeks of the brunette. Her eyes darted downwards, taking in the wound on Regina's lip. Her forehead creased with guilt at the sight. After what happened. After everything which Regina had suffered, how could she justify anything but serving the maximum sentence for her crimes?

"Regina, I can't," Emma all but whined. "I don't deserve to be free. I don't deserve your help, your support, your … whatever you're here for."

"I'm here for you, Emma," Regina said, stepping even closer and reaching out to place her hands on the blonde's shoulders. In her heels, she was the same height as the lanky younger woman. "I'm here to help you and you do deserve it. Just because no one has shown you kindness in the past, doesn't mean you're not worthy."

"Kindness? Is that what you're showing me?"

"You don't even recognise what I'm doing as being kind to you? Emma, that's so -"

"Stop," Emma said, stepping backwards as the expression on Regina's face morphed into something she had seen countless times when she was on the streets. "Don't pity me."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Emma said, moving further away. "I don't want your pity, Regina."

"Then what do you want?"

Emma opened her mouth to answer but hesitated and clamped it shut again. What did she want? She wanted to own up to her mistakes and accept her punishment, she knew that. But a life in prison? She might not have had any goals or aspirations before Friday but that didn't mean she was satisfied with a life in a cell. And then there was Regina. The woman who had appeared in her little world and shaken her emotions to their very core. Would she feel the same about what happened at the bank had Regina not been there? Would she be so focused on doing what was right if Regina wasn't the one trying to get her off the hook for a felony crime?

"I want to be worthy," she said eventually, sinking back into the chair she had vacated.

Regina forced herself not to move back towards the blonde, wanting to give her some space. "Worthy? Of what?"

"A life of freedom? A future which doesn't involve a prison cell? You?"

The blonde was still staring at her knees when she muttered that admittance. Unable to stop herself, Regina crossed the room and crouched down in front of Emma, peering up into glassy eyes.

"Me?"

The blonde took in the earnest upturned face, trying to understand what was happening, why her heart was pounding against her ribcage, what the emotions swirling in chocolate orbs meant.

"I'm confused," she whispered.

"Me too," Regina said, placing one hand on Emma's knee to keep her balance as she wobbled slightly on her toes.

Emma's gaze snapped to the slender, tanned fingers resting lightly against her pants. Even though the material, she could feel the heat emanating from the brunette's skin.

"This is so fucked up," she sighed.

"Or just complicated," Regina offered, fingers tensing slightly on Emma's leg.

The blonde offered a hollow chuckle. "Yeah, you could say that. But hey, when has my life ever been simple?"

Regina smiled. "At least life isn't boring."

"Pretty sure prison will be boring," Emma pointed out.

"Then perhaps you should take the deal so that you're only in there for a couple of years, not a couple of decades."

"Regina, I -"

"No, Emma, please, listen to me." The blonde snapped her mouth shut at the interruption. "I admire your loyalty to Lily, I really do. The fact that you don't want to make a deal to protect your friend is very noble. But you need to be selfish right now. Stop thinking of others and think of yourself just for once. Lily is already going to be convicted based on the evidence the DA has. Your testimony will just guarantee their win but it will also save your life. It will mean you'll have a life, Emma. Don't you want that?"

"I do," Emma nodded. "I do want that."

"Then take the deal," Regina said, her other hand landing on Emma's other knee. "Take the deal, Emma. Give yourself a chance."

"But Lily -"

"Killed someone," Regina interrupted again. "I know she's your friend but she's a murderer. Don't protect someone who doesn't deserve it. She killed someone, Emma. She deserves to be punished."

"So do I."

"And you will be," Regina said, hands sliding slightly up Emma's legs as she adjusted her now aching toes. "But you'll be punished to the level you deserve. Five years, Emma. That's more than enough."

"Not for what I did to you."

Green eyes sparkled once more and Emma looked away. Loathe as Regina was to move, her toes were complaining. I must do more yoga, she mused as she stood up and pulled a chair close to Emma's side and sat down before replacing her hands on Emma's legs, this time, halfway up her thin thighs.

"Emma, you didn't do anything to me. At least, you didn't do anything bad to me."

At that, the blonde looked up into Regina's slightly smirking face and blushed furiously. "Regina, I smashed your phones."

"My dad already bought me a new one. Smashing a phone shouldn't be punishable by twenty-five years in prison."

Emma had to admit that was true. If that was indeed the sentence for petty theft or vandalism, their legal system was in crisis. "I tied you up. I held you hostage."

"You saved my life," Regina stated firmly. "Emma, please, please don't do this. Don't let those stubborn, admirable morals put an end to any future we might have."

"We?"

Regina raised her eyebrows and then dropped her gaze to where her fingers were resting on Emma's legs. She moved her thumbs slowly, backwards and forwards over the cheap fabric of the suit Tink had given the blonde. The movement sent a shiver through Emma's entire body. Regina's breath hitched as Emma's hand suddenly covered her own. The palms were clammy; a physical representation of the blonde's nerves.

"Emma, I want there to be a 'we'," Regina admitted at last.

"Why?"

Fingers squeezed Emma's thighs and when the blonde looked up, she was met with a soft smile. "I don't think I have an answer to that question. Isn't it just enough to know that I'd like to see what's between us? I mean, if you … I guess I'm saying … well." Regina faltered, her confidence suddenly second guessed. Did Emma feel the same? Or was she just making a massive fool of herself? "What I'm trying to say … well, I guess what I mean is … I'm not saying I think we'll, but … do you think there's something -"

Lips pressed gently against Regina's open mouth, stopping the babbling stream of panicked nonsense in its tracks. She froze for a moment, fingers tense on Emma's legs until she registered what was happening. A quiet whimper escaped her throat as Emma's lips moved gently against her own, prompting her to melt into the kiss. She tilted her head, shifting the wound away from the soft pressure. Even though Emma's lips had been delicate, a twinge of pain had still shot from her damaged skin. She didn't care though and once Emma's tongue touched the tip of her own, all memory of any discomfort evaporated from her mind.

Rocking forwards off the chair and onto her knees, Regina moved closer to Emma, her hands sliding further up the bony thighs. Emma's own arms wrapped around the brunette's back, pulling her between her legs which parted slightly to accommodate Regina's body. Her tongue dipped further inside, exploring the taste of the brunette; coffee. Briefly, Emma said a silent thank you that Tink had handed her a toothbrush and some toothpaste when she had got changed in the courtroom bathroom.

Fingertips dug lightly into Emma's legs as their tongues began to dance, stroking tenderly, hesitantly. Hands splayed across Regina's back, Emma pulled the older teen still closer towards her as the kiss deepened. They were so wrapped up in one another that neither woman heard the door open again.

"Oh Jesus Christ."

They sprang apart, Emma's chair skittering on the floor and Regina falling backwards as she was pushed away. Tink smirked as she walked further into the room, tossing her bag onto the table.

"And what am I supposed to tell your parents about this, Regina?" she asked, hands on hips as she looked at the red-faced teen, features schooled into what she hoped was a frown of disapproval.

"Um, nothing?" the brunette asked, clambering to her feet and avoiding looking at Emma.

"Nothing, huh?" Tink asked, gaze sliding towards an equally beetroot-faced blonde. "Well, did you at least 'persuade'," she used her fingers to make air quotes, "Emma to take the deal in between making out?"

Regina shrugged and looked, at last, towards Emma. It wasn't her place to say whether or not Emma was going to take the deal. Green eyes met her own. Regina could see the internal conflict in there. The fact that Emma felt duty bound to protect her friend was admirable but Regina hoped, prayed that the blonde would put herself, put them first. At the end of the day, Lily didn't deserve to get away with what she did but Emma certainly deserved a second chance.

"Ok," Emma said quietly. "I'll take the deal."

"Great," Tink said, springing into action and gathering all of the paperwork she would need when the DA arrived to ensure Emma received the correct deal and that the charges were amended on the docket due to be in front of the judge in just a few minutes time. Emma watched her work, listening to Tink explain the processes which were about to begin and what to expect within the courtroom. She'd be pleading guilty but the elocution and sentencing would come at a later date, as would her testimony against Lily.

Regina, however, was focusing on Emma. The kiss had changed things for her. Or perhaps it had just illuminated what she already knew. It sounded crazy, she was aware, to feel something so powerful for a girl she barely knew. But as she sank into a vacant chair, eyes still locked on Emma, she knew that whatever she was experiencing was something far bigger and stronger than she had ever felt before.

"Regina, are you coming in with us?"

"What?" Regina asked, snapping her head back towards the lawyer.

Tink smirked again. "I said, are you coming into court with me and Emma?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Regina nodded, shooting a soft smile at the blonde. "I want to be there for Emma; every step of the way."

"Great, then wipe that lipstick off your mouth and Emma's. First impressions matter, remember? And I don't think the judge is going to be too hot on the fact that you two were just canoodling. No puppy dog eyes in the courtroom either, ok? This is just an arraignment. Emma will be sent to jail and then sentenced at a later time. It usually takes a few weeks to secure a sentencing date. She won't be granted bail because we're pleading guilty. Any questions?"

"She won't get bail?" Regina asked. She had already mentally decided that she'd put her own money up as bail when the judge set the amount.

"No," Tink replied.

"So … after this she goes straight to a prison cell?" Regina asked.

"Yeah," Tink nodded. "Kinda unavoidable, remember?"

"Regina, it's ok," Emma said quietly. "I knew this was coming."

It was true, Regina realised. But somehow she hadn't quite come to accept that the blonde would be led away in handcuffs and placed in a cell somewhere.

"I'll come to visit you as soon as I can," Regina said, standing up and walking over to Emma and reaching for her hands.

Emma stood as well and, with a glance at Tink, pulled Regina into her arms. At last she was able to hold Regina, feel the smaller woman's warm body against her own. Regina wrapped her own arms around Emma and hugged her tightly, burying her face against the skin of Emma's neck. She didn't care that the blonde hadn't had a chance to shower in days. She just needed to feel the blonde.

"Thank you," Emma whispered. "I don't know what you see in me but thank you."

Regina said nothing; she just hugged her harder.

"Ok ladies, let's go," Tink said after over a minute. "It's time."

The women unwound their arms and stepped back. Emma grinned and reached out to wipe the smears of lipstick from the brunette's mouth. Regina giggled and did the same to the blonde, removing the traces of their passion.

"Ready?" Regina asked when both women were presentable at last.

"As I'll ever be," Emma nodded.

Regina smiled and reached her hand forwards once more. Her little finger slid, gently, against Emma's. Their pinkies curled around one another and squeezed.

"I'm right here," Regina said. "I'll always be here."

Taking a deep breath, Emma forced a smile and turned towards Tink who was waiting by the door. "Let's go."


	22. The Plea

A/N: Happy Wednesday peeps from a freezing cold England! (I live in Asia and find days below 30 degrees Celsius 'chilly' …)

* * *

If asked what Emma remembered of the courtroom proceedings that day, she would say very little. It was all a blur of smart suits, long words and Tink jabbing her in the ribs, prompting her to deliver one or two word answers. And Regina. Her eyes drifted to the brunette sat behind her whenever she could. Yet another thing which earned her a poke from the blonde who muttered something about it being a bad impression to turn her back on the judge every few seconds. Well, Emma couldn't argue with that.

Before she knew it, two uniformed men were moving towards her, one of them pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

"What?" she gasped, turning to Tink. "Now?"

The blonde nodded. "You've given your plea of guilty. You've been denied bail, so you'll be held in a juvenile detention centre. Now we wait for a date to be set for your elocution which is when you'll be sentenced. And of course, you'll need to testify in Lily's trial too but that won't be for several weeks, I suspect."

"So I just go -"

"I'm sorry," Tink said, reaching out and patting Emma's shoulder. "I'll be in touch as soon as I hear anything regarding a date."

Emma's eyes slid from the lawyer's face to Regina who was now standing up, her hips pressed against the low wooden balustrade which separated the viewing gallery from the main area of the courtroom. Emma could see the inner turmoil in the woman who seemed to want to leap over the barrier and run into the blonde's arms. She could see it because she wanted to do exactly the same.

"Can I say goodbye?" Emma asked.

Tink glanced at the two men who stood directly behind Emma. "No, I'm sorry," Tink replied. "You need to go with these gentlemen now. Don't make a scene. This judge may well be the one to sentence you."

Emma swallowed thickly and nodded. Bracing herself, she turned her gaze back to Regina whose eyes were swimming with tears and forced a smile at the brunette. "See you soon," she said, the words catching in her throat.

"I'll come and visit," Regina promised again. "As soon as I can."

Before Emma could say anything more, she felt cold metal encircle her wrist. Tears sprang to her eyes too and she looked away, not wanting Regina to see the fear on her features. With a burley court official on either side of her, Emma was escorted from the room. Unbeknownst to the blonde, Regina watched until she was out of sight.

Emma found herself in a long, narrow, dark hallway. Unlike the rest of the courthouse which had been grand and intimidatingly fancy, it was clear this area was not meant to be seen by the general public. Criminals only. The three of them marched down the corridor before descending some steps into a small reception area which gave way to another hallway lined with cells.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"Holding," one of the men replied as the other went to pass over some paperwork to the officer on duty.

"Why?"

"Cos you have to wait until there are a few of you to be shipped up to juvie."

Before Emma could ask any more questions, the other man returned and gestured for his colleague, with their prisoner, follow him. Most of the cells were empty as they passed but a few held people waiting for their turn in court. Emma kept her gaze on her feet, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone. The officers stopped and one of them used a key to unlock an empty cell. Standing back, they waited.

Emma glanced into the small, dark space, then up at the two men. Their faces displayed no emotion. Unable to delay the inevitable any more, Emma dutifully walked into the cell. Turning around, she stuck her hands through the bars, a now practiced move, and the cuffs were removed by one guard as the other locked the gate behind her. And then they were off, walking back down the corridor, talking quietly to one another.

Sitting down on the small bench which was the only thing in the cell, Emma placed her head in her hands. Was this what she was going to be faced with for the next two, three, four, five years of her life? Even if she did get a short sentence and then got parole it was still hundreds of days locked in a cage like an animal.

But you deserve it, a small voice said in the back of her head. For what you did to Regina, to those innocent people, you deserve to spend time behind bars. Emma sniffed and wiped a tear away in defiance. It was true. She did deserve it. She deserved this and much more. She couldn't feel sorry for herself. Everything that was coming down on her was as a result of her own actions. She had to accept responsibility. She had broken the law and she had to pay. She deserved to pay.

No, you deserve a second chance. The second voice in her head sounded suspiciously like Regina's. A lump in Emma's throat formed as she remembered the brunette's words. Why? Why did Regina believe in Emma? Why did she think Emma deserved a second chance? Why did she like Emma? Why did she kiss Emma?

Oh, actually, Emma kissed Regina. But Regina kissed back; it was definitely reciprocal. Emma sat more upright and then slumped against the brick wall behind her. What did that mean? She knew she was attracted to Regina; had known that from the moment she laid eyes on her in the bank. But was Regina attracted to her? Or was this just some sort of infatuation because of the trauma she had experienced in Emma's presence? Surely it was the latter. Surely Regina would come to her senses and realise that she could do better than Emma Swan. Yes, Emma nodded to herself, Regina could do better than her and she would realise that very soon. And then Emma would be alone. Again.

* * *

No sooner had Regina sat down in the lunch hall at their school did Zelena appear in front of her.

"So, what happened?" the redhead asked, picking up several French fries and dipping them in ketchup before munching on them.

"What do you mean? We were at court; Emma was arraigned," Regina replied glumly.

"Yeah, I'm not interested in all that legal bullshit."

"You want to be a lawyer," Regina shot back.

Zelena rolled her eyes. "My parents want me to be a lawyer. I want to be an artist."

"Yeah, good luck persuading your parents to let you go down that route."

The redhead huffed in agreement. "I know, it's so unfair and I just want to – Wait! Stop distracting me. Tell me what happened in court this morning. Did you see Emma?"

"I did," Regina nodded, delicately spearing some salad and avoiding eye contact with Zelena.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what happened?"

Regina sighed and put down her cutlery. "And we kissed, ok?"

Zelena squealed so loudly that half the canteen turned to stare at her. Regina admonished her friend with an exaggerated 'hush' and waved off the curious looks. Once those around them had gone back to their own conversations, Regina leaned forwards.

"You can't tell anyone, ok?"

"My lips are sealed," Zelena nodded firmly. "But you have to tell me everything. What was it like? Was it like kissing a guy? Did you like it? Who kissed who?"

"Jeez, stop with the questions, woman," Regina chuckled, returning to her discarded salad. "And she kissed me, I suppose, but I kissed her back."

"Tongue?"

Regina's blush gave that answer for her. Zelena actually clapped with glee at that point.

"And was she better than Daniel?"

"I don't know," Regina admitted. "I mean, it was our first kiss. It was different."

"Was it good?"

"Yeah," Regina said quickly. "Really good."

Zelena grinned widely at her friend. "Oh my God, you're so smitten."

"I'm not smitten," Regina frowned.

"Yes, you are. You're a smitten kitten," Zelena laughed.

Regina frowned again. "Shut up. It's not like anything can happen between us anyway. I mean, not yet."

"Oh yeah, the whole criminal thing. She's in prison now?"

The brunette nodded and put down her fork, suddenly not hungry. "Juvenile detention centre, yes. She'll be there until she's eighteen apparently and then be transferred to an adult prison."

"How long is her sentence?" Zelena asked, no longer teasing her friend now she could see how upset Regina was at the prospect of this unknown Emma's future.

"Five years is the minimum."

"Five years? Fuck, Reggie! What are you going to do? Just wait for her?"

"She could be eligible for parole in two," Regina pointed out, ignoring the other questions.

In truth, she hadn't really thought about it. Her feelings for Emma were all so new and confusing. She liked the blonde a lot; more than she liked Daniel. There was something deep inside pulling her, inexplicably towards Emma. There was a connection between them, of that she was sure. But what did it mean? Was this connection something which would continue and endure? Was she really going to visit Emma in juvenile prison and then real, scary adult prison until they were in their early twenties? Is that how the next few years of her life were going to pan out?

The bell rang, signalling the end of their lunch break and the start of afternoon class. Regina was glad of the distraction and the end to Zelena's questions. She appreciated having the redhead to talk to, but it was hard to provide answers to questions she hadn't even addressed herself.

Together, the two best friends stood and made their way out of the canteen and towards their next class. As soon as she entered, Regina was bombarded with questions about the hostage situation. Those, at least, she could answer without confronting her feelings for Emma. As she took her seat, her classmates crowded around to hear all the details of her ordeal.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time Emma was called to the bars of her cage, for there was no other word for it, and handcuffed. She and two others under the age of eighteen were herded out into a parking lot at the back of the courtroom. There stood a truck, its rear doors wide open. A tall, greasy haired boy climbed in first and slumped down on the bench. Then Emma climbed up, wobbling slightly with her hands locked together. She chose to sit opposite the boy. Once she was inside, a short girl, no older than fifteen, hopped up, sobbing audibly as she sat down beside Emma. One of the centre's officers climbed in after them and settled next to the boy.

The door was slammed shut, throwing them all into near darkness. A strip light above them flickered to life as the engine turned over beneath them. Without a word, the truck pulled forwards, transporting three young criminals to their new home. Emma focused on her knees, not wanting to look at anyone else. The girl next her continued to cry. The boy was silent. The guard began to hum tunelessly.

It didn't take long until the truck pulled to a halt and the engine died. Seconds later, the back of the truck opened and the guard climbed out.

"Right, come on," she barked, waving her hand and encouraging them out.

One by one they climbed down, first the crying girl, then Emma and finally the boy. Looking around, Emma saw they were in a small courtyard. In front of them was an open door through which the guard led them and into a brightly lit corridor where two other guards were waiting.

"Ok, Swan, you're in here," the guard said, consulting a clipboard which one of her colleagues had passed her, pointing to a room on the right. "Clifford, you're there," another door was pointed to and the boy moved towards it, followed by the male guard, "and McGregor, come with me."

Emma walked into the assigned room behind one of the officers, leaving behind her two companions. She sat down, when prompted, at the desk and faced the guard who had a file in front of her.

"Right, Emma," the guard said in a friendly manner after she had finished uncuffing the blonde. "I'm Ruby Lucas. I'll be your counsellor while you're here."

"Counsellor?"

"Don't worry, I'm not a shrink," Ruby grinned wolfishly. "I'm just here to help and as someone you can talk to at any time while you're here. Think of me as a big sister, rather than a counsellor, if that makes you more comfortable."

Emma said nothing. She took in the young woman. Ruby wasn't much older than herself and had several streaks of bright red hair tied back into a long, dead-straight pony tail.

"So, Emma, you're being charged with kidnapping, right?"

"Yeah." What else was there to say?

"Well, you'll have to wait here for a few weeks before you're sentenced but I doubt you'll be moved to a different location afterwards, so you may as well start to settle in now."

"Settle in?"

Ruby nodded. "It's not so bad here, Emma," she smiled. "We're a small facility with friendly staff and lots of activities to keep you busy. We even have a high school program. I assume you never graduated?" Emma shook her head. "Well, I'm sure by the time you've served your time we'll be able to get you your GED. That'll be a big plus when you start looking for work in the future."

"What future?" Emma asked, sitting back and crossing her arms, an undeniable pout on her face.

"Hey now, think positive," Ruby said, offering Emma a gentle smile. "I know things look bad but I promise they'll get better. We have lots of great programs here including ones which help people come to terms with their past actions."

"I don't want to justify what I've done," Emma retorted. "I don't want forgiveness."

"I'm not talking about forgiveness," Ruby placated. "But there are many different exercises which can help both the perpetrator and the victim come to terms with the events and put their feelings and fears behind them, so they can move forwards. We're all about building a future for you here at Storybrooke Juvenile Centre. We like to think of it as a place where you can write your own happy ending."

"And what if I don't deserve one?" Emma asked, darkness steeling over her features.

"Everyone deserves a happy ending, Emma," Ruby said quietly. "And I'm going to help you realise that."

* * *

A/N: Valium really does knock you out. I wrote a whole paragraph before passing out, so I wrote this, jetlagged, back in my childhood bedroom. I hope you like it!


	23. The Counsellor

A/N: So the previous chapter was posted a day early because I completely lost track of time/days etc with travel and jetlag. Anyway, sorry! I hope the content made sense … I should probably read back over it as I was clearly not coherent when I published it! This chapter has been written whilst I am fully awake and caffeinated!

* * *

Stepping back through the door from the underground garage into the main house that afternoon, Regina was unsurprised to see both her parents waiting for her. Of course, usually Henry was in the office at that time but after what had happened, both Mills wanted to be there to greet their daughter after her first day back at school.

"Well?" Cora asked. "How was it?"

"Fine," Regina replied, dropping her car keys into the bowl on the side table and heading towards the stairs.

"Fine? Is that all you want to say to us?"

Regina paused at her father's tone. Did he know? Had Tink told him about their morning in court? More than that, had the lawyer told her father about what she had witnessed between his daughter and Emma?

"There's not much more to say," Regina said, turning slowly on the spot. "School was fine. People asked questions. I answered some of them. Tomorrow will be easier."

Playing obtuse was the best choice, she decided. But even as she spoke in a calm, level voice, her heart was pounding against her chest. What would happen if her parents did find out? She was sure they would be upset; not because of Emma's gender but more because of the blonde's recent criminal activities.

"Ok, well, if you're sure you're still ok to keep going. No one would blame you if you wanted to take a couple of days or even weeks off," Cora offered.

"No, Mom, I'm fine, thanks. I just want things to go back to normal. Um, I've got homework so." She jabbed her thumb up the stairs as if to indicate that she was going to leave. When neither parent said anything, she recommenced her ascension of the sweeping staircase.

Once inside her bedroom, Regina dropped her satchel to the floor and pulled out her cell phone. She had a message from Daniel asking if she wanted to meet one night that week. Flopping onto her bed, she tossed the cell aside and closed her eyes. She needed to meet up with him, to break up with him. Except they weren't officially together, so was it really a break up? Either way, Daniel needed to know that he and Regina were never going to become anything more than friends.

She liked Daniel, she really did. And the two of them had had fun over the past few months. He was sweet and funny and caring and chivalrous. Her parents loved him because of his impeccable manners and boyish charm, even though he had shot up to reach well over six feet now. And, of course, his bloodline. Regina knew her parents were not overly snobbish when it came to lineage but they were undeniably pleased when she had shown an interest in Daniel. On paper, perhaps, they were the perfect match.

Unlike Emma. On paper, she and Emma were chalk and cheese. They had nothing in common, were unable to relate to the lifestyle and experiences of the other and their lives were clearly set on different trajectories. But somehow, for some reason, when the two of them were together, none of that mattered. Their differences were forgotten when they saw one another. Even now, lying on her bed and trying to process her thoughts and feelings, Regina felt her body tingle at the memory of Emma.

Fingers drifted to her lips. She ignored the sutures which were holding the split skin together and recalled the memory of Emma's mouth pressed against hers. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered the gentle movement, the tentative exploration, the feel of Emma's arms wrapped around her body, her core thrumming with need.

She sat up, knowing what she needed to do. Reaching for her cell, she navigated to her contacts and called Daniel. There was no point delaying the inevitable.

* * *

After her meeting with Ruby, Emma had been served a surprisingly tasty meal in the counsellor's office while the final paperwork was completed before she was admitted into the main part of the building. She was also issued with some clothes. It had been a pleasant surprise to learn she wasn't going to have to wear an orange jump suit. Instead, Emma was allowed to choose from a range of clothes, none of them new but none of they too ragged. She selected a couple of pairs of denim shorts, a few t-shirts and a pullover. Ruby had assured her she would get warmer clothes issued in the winter. She was also provided with a pair of pyjamas and given a pack of new underwear along with some soft trainers. It wasn't much but it was something.

The tour of the juvenile detention centre took little over thirty minutes. Emma and the young girl who had been in the truck were shown around together by Ruby. The youngster, whose name was Kelly, had red eyes and a puffy face. Emma tried to offer her a reassuring smile but in reality she was just as nervous. Ruby, however, seemed so upbeat and positive that as they fell into step beside her, some of that worry and fear began to diminish.

In addition to the anticipated dining hall, bathrooms and library, the building also had a well-equipped games room, tv room and several study halls. Lesson schedules were taped to a large noticeboard and seemed to be numerous and varied in their scope. The outside space was not as bleak as Emma had feared. True, it was fenced it but there was a basketball court as well as a large grassy field and an asphalt area dotted with picnic benches. As they walked across the yard, the youngsters already there watched them with vague interest. Emma avoided eye contact.

"And this is your bunk, Kelly," Ruby said, stopping outside an open door and pointing inside. The young girl hesitated, clutching the clothes and toiletries they had been issued with to her chest. "Go on, it's fine. Your bunkmate is in class now but she'll be back soon. You've got a couple of hours before dinner so just hang out and get to know one another ok? Any questions, ask to speak with your counsellor."

Kelly nodded to show she understood and finally stepped inside the room. Ruby smiled at Emma and gestured for her to follow. "And you're in here," she said, stopping just a few doors down. "Oh, MM should be back by now."

"Who's MM?" Emma asked, peering inside the modest room.

"Your bunkmate," Ruby said. "She's scheduled to have free time at the moment. Perhaps she's outside."

"So when we've got 'free time' we can just walk around?"

"Yup," Ruby nodded. "This isn't a prison, Emma. We try to give everyone here a little freedom as well as helping you learn how to take responsibility for yourselves. You get to choose how you spend your free time but we're here to help you make the right choices."

"The right choices?"

"As in, we'd rather you went outside and played basketball instead of hiding in the bathroom and making hooch."

Despite herself, Emma laughed. Ruby grinned. "Ok, I get your point."

"Great. So, any questions?"

Emma shook her head. She was sure Storybrooke was going to take some getting used to but so far she seemed to understand where she was and what was expected of her.

"Ok, well, if you need anything, just come and see me. My door is always open."

"Thanks," Emma said.

She knew it was the lanky redhead's job but she appreciated the warm welcome she had received. Knowing there was someone she could turn to for help, support, guidance, whose job it was to provide those things was something she had been offered in the past but never truly experienced. Social workers were always flitting in and out of Emma's life as she jumped around the foster system but no one had ever truly been there for her, had never put her needs first. The first person who had supported her, had been there for her was Neal. She shuddered at the memory.

"You ok?"

Emma looked up into the concerned face of her counsellor. "Huh?"

"You're crying," Ruby pointed out gently, handing Emma a tissue.

The blonde hadn't even realised. She felt a surge of anger at herself for displaying weakness. She took the tissue and wiped the traitorous tears from her face. "Sorry," she muttered as she stuffed the tissue into her pocket.

"Don't apologise," Ruby said quietly. "You've been through a lot the last few days. We'll talk about it in time, when you're ready. For now, why don't you lie down and get some rest?"

At those words, a wave of exhaustion overcame Emma and she nodded. Walking into the cell, she put her newly assigned clothes on the top bunk, deducing the pyjamas on the pillow of the one beneath implied it was taken. Kicking off her shoes, she climbed up the ladder at the end and crawled towards the head of the bed. Fresh sheets were folded neatly beside the pillow, but she didn't have the energy to make the bed in that moment. She lay down and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling a few feet above her head. This was it; her home for the next ten months until she turned eighteen and was moved to a 'real' prison.

"Oh, you're here already."

Emma sat bolt upright at the voice and turned, eyes wide, towards the doorway where a skinny teenage now stood. She had black hair, cut into a pixie crop and was wearing a cute floral summer dress. Were it not for where they both were, the girl looked like she could be returning from a morning in the park with her friends.

"Um, yeah, I am. Hi."

"Hi," the girl replied, moving into the room and extending her hand up towards Emma. "I'm Mary Margaret but everyone calls me MM."

Emma shook the proffered hand slowly. "I'm Emma."

"Hey Emma," MM said with a wide smile. "Welcome to Storybrooke."

"Thanks," the blonde said, still a little suspicious at the display of apparent niceness.

"How long are you in for?" the girl continued, toeing off her shoes and placing them neatly beside her bed.

"Not sure yet," Emma replied. "I've not been sentenced."

"Ah, that sucks," MM said, moving to the small desk and chair set on the far side of the room and sitting down. "I've only got another six months and I'm outta here."

"How long have you been here?"

"Six months so I'm halfway through my sentence."

"And um, what … I mean, why …"

"Why am I in here?" MM offered. Emma blushed and nodded. "Shoplifting."

"You can go to prison for shoplifting?" Emma frowned. She and Neal had been prolific shoplifters during their time on the street but had never been caught. She had no idea the crime came with a prison sentence.

"Well, sometimes," MM grinned. "Let's just say it wasn't the first time I'd been caught. The judge seemed to think this was the only thing which was going to deter me. In fact, he called me a bandit."

That made more sense, Emma supposed, noting as she did so the hint of pride in the girl's voice at her judge-appointed nickname. Still, a year in juvenile detention for shoplifting seemed harsh. And, in comparison, Emma's sentence seemed light. Not for the first time, she got the feeling her punishment was too lenient for the crime she had committed. Thanks to Regina. The irony was not lost on her.

"So, why are you here?"

"Kidnapping," Emma replied shortly, not wanting to go into details.

MM seemed to get the hint as she didn't ask anything more. Instead, she turned to the desk and pulled out some paper and a pen before promptly beginning writing something. Emma watched the girl for a while before lying back down on her bunk. Well, at least she was sharing a room with someone who appeared to be friendly, she mused. She got the impression that friendliness could get annoying but she decided not to complain. Surely friendly was better than hostile.

* * *

"Regina." The call was accompanied by a knock on the closed bedroom door. "Dinner time."

"Coming," the brunette replied, saving the document she was working on and closing her laptop lid.

She opened her door to find her mother hovering in the hallway. "Hey," Regina offered. "What's on the menu?"

"Lasagne," Cora smiled. She had specifically requested her daughter's favourite dish, hoping that it would bring a smile to her injured lip. "How's the homework coming?"

"Nearly finished," Regina lied. In truth, she had only just started. The phone call with Daniel arranging when and where to meet him had distracted her. She had spent most of the time she had been in her room trying to work out what to say to him. She didn't want to mention Emma, but she wanted to be honest with him about why she wanted to end things.

The two Mills women walked downstairs together to the dining room. Regina didn't say anything more. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to engage in conversation and she didn't want to invite questions. Her father was already seated at the table, waiting for the two most important ladies in his life.

"Good evening, Princess," he said as his daughter sat down.

"Evening, Daddy," Regina smiled. "Did you have a good day at the office?"

"I worked from home today," Henry said as their food was served to each of them.

Regina frowned at that statement. "Because of me?"

"I work from home every now and then," Henry shrugged.

The brunette tried to remember the last time her father had worked from home. She couldn't recall a time she had returned from school before to find her father in the house, much less waiting for her in the hallway.

"I'm fine, Daddy," Regina said quietly. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Parents worry about their children, darling," Cora said. "We've always worried about you; it's natural. So after what happened last week, perhaps indulge us in worrying a little more than usual."

Regina said nothing. There was no reply to that. Instead, she tucked into the steaming plate of lasagne, the familiar smell suddenly reminding her that she was ravenous.

"That's why we've hired a security agent for you."

Regina choked on the mouthful she had taken at those words from her father. Spluttering, she reached for a glass of water and then wiped her face before turning to the man who was looking inscrutably at her.

"What?" she asked, throat a little hoarse.

"A security agent," Henry repeated. "He'll be with you at all times from now on, at a discrete distance, of course."

"Why?"

"With all the money we've spent on your education, I think you are capable of deducing the answer to that question, Regina," Henry replied. "Anyway, it's not like he impeded your movement today, am I right?"

"Today?" The blood in Regina's veins ran cold. Someone employed by her father had been following her all day? If that was true, her parents knew about –

"Yes, he saw you go into the court. I assume you were there to see Emma?"

Regina gawped at her father who seemed utterly calm. A glance at her mother, however, told Regina which of her parents was less comfortable with her movements that morning.

"I just wanted to see her," she said eventually.

"We know. Tink told us."

"She … she told you?" Regina's mind was racing. How much had Tink told her parents? Surely if they knew about the kiss they wouldn't be seemingly so calm about this revelation. No, something told Regina that particular secret was safe.

"Of course. We pay her, not you, remember? And while your mother and I don't exactly understand why you insist on supporting this young woman, neither of us were surprised to learn you went to court today. We're just hoping that now Emma's legal issues are sorted, you'll get back to concentrating on your studies. I don't want you skipping any more school because of this girl, ok?"

"Yes, Daddy, sorry," Regina muttered, hardly daring to say anything in case she got herself into trouble.

The conversation lapsed into silence and all three Mills resumed eating their lasagne. All of them, however, were thinking about a green-eyed blonde. Those thoughts, predictably, were alarmingly varied from contempt to curiosity to something confusing yet all-consuming which didn't yet have a name.

* * *

"Are you coming for dinner?" MM asked.

"Huh?" Emma asked, jolting awake and sitting up, trying to remember where she was.

"Long day?" her new bunkmate asked.

"Yeah," Emma nodded, yawning and rubbing her face.

"Come on, let's get some food. Then you can sleep properly. These beds aren't great but they sure beat those damn benches in holding, right?"

Emma nodded her agreement to that as she climbed awkwardly down the ladder and jumped to the floor. "Um, can I leave my stuff?"

"Of course," MM nodded, pulling on her shoes as Emma did the same. "No one wants your clothes. This isn't prison. If we want new clothes, we can just go and ask our counsellors. Who did you get?"

"Ruby."

"Me too. She's chill."

The redhead was chill, Emma supposed. She hadn't given much thought to the adults she would be encountering in juvie but Ruby did appear to be a helpful, friendly and supportive figure. Perhaps, for the first time in her life, Emma would have a positive role model.

As they entered the dining hall, Emma got an impression for the first time of how many young people were being held in Storybrooke. The sight and noise reminded her of a school canteen with groups of girls talking and laughing together at long tables throughout the room. There were perhaps one hundred youngsters in there but Emma knew there were several different wings, separated by age and gender.

"This way," MM said, leading Emma towards the end of a line which snaked towards the food counter. "The grub here is ok actually. Breakfast is a bit boring cos it's always the same but they do something different for dinner every night of the week."

"Who cooks it?"

"The kitchen staff," MM replied.

"Not us?"

"Nah, they seem not to trust kids who have committed crimes with knives and flames," MM laughed. "Why, do you like cooking?"

"Not really," Emma replied. "I was just wondering if that was a work detail."

"We're kids, Emma," the pixie haired woman reminded her. "This isn't adult prison. We don't have work details. We have class and loads of free time. Think of it as an extended summer camp."

"I never went to summer camp."

"Yeah, me neither but you can imagine it, right? Compared to real prison, this is a walk in the park. Enjoy it while you can."

"How did you know I'd be leaving here?" Emma asked, eyes narrowed slightly.

MM shrugged. "I guessed. I mean, you've gotta be seventeen, right?" Emma nodded. "And kidnapping isn't exactly a slap on the wrist crime. Figured you'd be going away for a few years and once you age out of here, you'll be moved to a proper prison."

"Oh, right." Emma swallowed as she was once again confronted with her bleak future.

"Hey, I'm sorry. It'll be ok. I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds."

The woman was perceptive, Emma realised. Not only had she deduced Emma's legal circumstances but she had noticed that her words had sent a chill through the blonde. What would happen in ten months? What would the rest of her sentence look like? Regina's face popped, unbidden, into her mind. Would Regina keep her word? Would Regina really come and visit? Emma raised her hand to her lips and rubbed her fingers softly over the flesh, remembering the memory from that morning. MM looked at her new bunkmate curiously for a moment before stepping forwards and collecting her dinner of lasagne.

* * *

A/N: I moved Emma's birthday because I wanted her to be in juvie for as long as possible. Artistic licence!


	24. The Elocution

A/N: Sorry for the missed chapter on Wednesday– damn family and work commitments! I'll be unable to publish this coming Wednesday either but I will try to do an extra big chapter for this next Sunday as well as, perhaps, a little extra Christmas treat!

* * *

Abrupt bright light rudely pierced Emma's eyelids. Groaning, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow, inhaling the unfamiliar scent. It was a mixture of too much laundry detergent and musty material. Not exactly nice but it was better than some of the scents she had slept amongst since she had been on the streets.

"Morning," yawned her bunkmate from beneath her.

"What time is it?" Emma croaked, throat scratchy.

"Seven thirty," MM replied, already sitting up and stretching. "They like to get us up nice and early."

"Every day?" Emma asked, incredulous. Didn't the people in charge of this place know teenagers were practically nocturnal? Or was this torture deliberate?

"Nah, weekends they don't force us to get up until eight thirty. It's a real treat."

Emma groaned again as she heaved herself into a sitting position Peering over the edge of her bunk, she saw MM already gathering together some wash items. Emma had been issued with a new toothbrush, toothpaste and some shampoo the night before. She had been pleasantly surprised to discover that there were shower cubicles which offered some privacy. The feeling of the hot spray cleaning her grimy skin for the first time in days had refreshed her, cleansed her as grey water coiled down the drain at her feet.

"What time is breakfast?"

"Now," MM replied. "They serve until nine but by then the eggs are all congealed and gross. I usually eat and then shower. Do you want to join me?"

Still not quite used to the friendliness of her new bunkmate, Emma hesitated before nodding her agreement. As MM put on her shoes, Emma climbed down from her bed and grabbed her own items from a small table where all her worldly possessions were stacked.

"Ready?" MM asked, far too chirpy for the time of day.

"Yeah," Emma nodded.

The two of them exited their room which led onto a small corridor off which eleven other bedrooms made up their unit. The doors to each room remained unlocked at night but the gate which led to the unit itself was locked until the morning. MM had told her that these rooms held seventeen-year olds. There was another unit for sixteen, fifteen and fourteen year olds respectively. The few younger inmates were all grouped together. Each corridor also had a small communal space with couches and a television which had access to limited television channels and worked for a few hours each evening.

"So, what are you doing today?" MM asked Emma as they walked towards the canteen, through the already unlocked gate.

"I have another meeting with Ruby," Emma replied. "And I guess I can sign up for some classes or something then. What about you?"

"School," MM replied. "English this morning, then geography, then I have math after lunch."

"Are you studying for exams?"

"Yep," MM nodded. "I mean, we've gotta leave here with some sort of qualification, right? And it's not like there's anything else to do every day, so I figured I may as well actually apply myself for the first time in my life."

"Makes sense," Emma replied. "I've not been in school for over a year though, so I bet I'm really behind."

"They have classes for all abilities here, you'll be fine," MM said as they entered the already busy communal kitchen. "You can read, right?"

"Yeah," Emma scoffed. "Of course I can."

"You'd be surprised. The teachers here are actually good. Better than the ones I had in school, I reckon. You want fried or scrambled eggs?" she added, pointing to the canteen counter they had reached.

Plates loaded up with food, MM and Emma moved to a table where a few girls already sat. MM smiled and waved at them, receiving a few lukewarm nods in response. Emma watched curiously. From what she could tell, her bunkmate was perfectly nice. Contrary to her expectations, she didn't have an attitude problem and seemed to be making the most of the situation she had found herself in. So why did she seem to not have any friends?

"So, what are you going to talk to Ruby about?" MM asked as they began to eat.

Perhaps nosiness was the reason the pixie haired woman was not overly popular, Emma mused as she took a gulp of orange juice. "I dunno," she said eventually. "Me? What I did?"

"Kidnapping, right? Who'd you kidnap?"

Yeah, this could definitely get annoying, Emma decided. But before she could answer, Kelly, the young girl who had arrived at the same time as herself appeared by Emma's elbow. One look at the pale, puffy face told Emma that the younger girl had not slept as soundly as she had.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Sure," Emma nodded, grateful for the interruption as well as feeling a faint obligation to look out for this youngster. "MM, this is Kelly. She arrived with me yesterday."

"Hi Kelly," MM said, launching into more questions, this time directed at the newcomer, leaving Emma to finish her breakfast in peace.

* * *

As she drove to school the following morning, Regina glanced in her rear-view mirror more often than usual. It didn't take her long to deduce that the black sedan following her contained the appointed bodyguard. She knew it would do no good to protest her parents' decision, but she was a little indignant at their choice to have her babysat. Ok, sure, she had been held hostage the week before but that was pure chance; she hadn't been targeted.

Pulling into the school parking lot, Regina watched the sedan glide to a stop outside. At least they weren't sitting at the back of her classes, she mused as she climbed out of her own car. She made a conscious effort not to look at the parked vehicle although she was sure the eyes of whomever was in there would be watching her like a hawk.

"Hey," Zelena said, hurrying up and falling into step beside her best friend. "How are you doing?"

"I've got my own personal bodyguard now," Regina informed the redhead.

"Really? Where?" Zelena asked, looking around. "Who is it? Are they hot?"

"No idea," Regina admitted. "I've not seen them. They're parked in that black sedan outside. But don't make it obvious you're looking."

The final instruction was promptly ignored as Zelena stopped where she was, causing the student behind her to walk into her, before turning around and scanning the road outside their school to identify what Regina was talking about.

"Oh yeah, I see. Who's inside?"

"I don't know," Regina repeated. "I've not met whoever it is. My parents just announced last night that they've hired someone to follow me everywhere."

"Everywhere?" Zelena asked, the two of them recommencing their walk into school. "So yesterday, did they know you went to see your girlfriend in court?"

Regina ignored the comment but nodded her head. "And apparently Tink told them too."

"Traitor."

"I don't blame her," Regina said as they entered their first class. "I mean, she had to tell them else she'd have lost their job when they did find out. But I can't work out how I'm going to go and see Emma now. I promised Daddy I wouldn't skip school again and I can't just drive up to the juvenile centre, can I?"

Zelena's eyes gleamed in excitement. She loved the prospect of planning mischief. As soon as they took their seats, the teenager pulled out a notebook and began jotting down ideas for how Regina could slip her security detail and meet with Emma. At the top of the page, Zelena wrote 'Operation Lovebirds'. Regina rolled her eyes but said nothing and joined her friend in trying to plan her next rendezvous with the blonde whose green eyes had not left her mind since she had last seen them.

* * *

After breakfast, Emma returned to her room to wait for her appointment with Ruby while MM headed to class. She told Kelly she was welcome to sit with them at lunch too as they parted ways and received a grateful smile. Lying back on her bed, Emma began to think about the upcoming meeting with the counsellor. While she hadn't given much thought to Ruby's position the day before, she was now wondering what the meeting was going to entail.

Emma had seen a few psychologists and psychiatrists in her life. Problem foster children were always sent to specialists in an attempt to find a label to attach to them. None of those professionals had helped so she doubted Ruby was going to be successful. And anyway, there was no 'problem' with her; there were just a few bad decisions which had led to Friday and subsequently landed Emma in prison.

What would Ruby ask? Would she ask about Neal? About Lily? About Regina? The apprehension built inside her as she began to wonder what she would say. Would she talk about how she'd been betrayed by Neal? About how she'd betrayed Lily? And about how she felt about Regina? No, she wouldn't talk about Regina. She couldn't; she didn't have the words to describe the energy which flowed between herself and the brunette.

Five minutes before her appointment, according to the clock on the wall of their bunk, Emma climbed off her bed and headed down towards the small group of offices. Better to get it over and done with, she supposed.

"Come in."

Emma opened the door she had knocked on and was greeted with a warm smile from Ruby. Sitting down in the chair opposite her counsellor who was typing something on her laptop and indicated that she'd be finished in a few seconds, Emma folded her arms over her chest and waited.

"Thanks for coming this morning, Emma," Ruby began closing the lid of her laptop. "How was your first night?"

"Ok, I guess," Emma replied.

"Did you get some sleep?"

"Yes," Emma nodded.

"And MM, are you getting on with her?"

"I suppose. She asks a lot of questions."

Ruby laughed. "Yes, she does. But she's a lovely girl. It's nice to have friends in a place like this."

"Sure."

The counsellor took note of the short answers and the folded arms. It wasn't unusual to meet resistance from the young people she worked with. So instead of moving onto the main topic of the session, Ruby decided to try and make Emma feel a bit more relaxed.

"What about anyone else in here. Have you met the rest of the girls on your corridor?"

"Briefly," Emma nodded. After dinner the day before, she and MM had gone to the communal room in which a number of other seventeen-year-olds had been hanging out, killing time before lights out. She had caught a few names but not engaged in conversation with any of them.

"They're a good group. I'm the counsellor for most of them and I'm sure you'll all be friends in no time."

"Maybe."

Ruby interlaced her fingers and leaned forwards a little, elbows resting on her desk. "Friends are good, Emma," she said gently.

"If you say so."

Hesitating, Ruby pressed on. "Just because you haven't had much luck picking friends in the past, doesn't mean you won't make better choices in the future."

"What makes you think my friends were the problem?" Emma asked.

"Well, from what I know of your case, the bank robbery wasn't your idea. You're not even being charged with it. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Yes, Emma thought. It told her a lot. "That I'm getting off lightly because I struck a deal to rat out my friend."

Ah, Ruby mused. So this wasn't about Emma's friends betraying her, it was about Emma herself not feeling like she was a good friend.

"We can talk about how you're feeling about your testimony but before we begin, I have some good news."

"I'm getting out of here?" Emma asked, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

"Your sentencing date has been set. They had an opening on Friday which is much sooner than our legal system usually performs."

"Is that good news?"

"It ends the unknown," Ruby pointed out. "Once the judge has passed their sentence, at least you'll know how long you're going to be incarcerated. From there, perhaps we can make a plan for your time here."

"I guess," Emma sighed. "What exactly happens at the sentencing?"

"Your lawyer will give you more details when she comes in to meet with you tomorrow but I can give you a brief overview," Ruby smiled, before starting to explain the process of sentencing and what Emma would have to do for her elocution.

* * *

Her phone skittered across the table, the caller ID flashing up onto the screen. Regina apologised to Zelena who had been in the middle of telling her about a cute boy she'd seen on her way home the previous day and answered the call.

"Hey Tink,"

"Regina, hi," the lawyer said. "Sorry to call you over lunch. Do you have time to just talk about something quickly?"

"About Emma?" At that, Zelena's eyes widened and she grinned at the imminent gossip opportunity. Regina wrinkled her nose at her friend's eagerness. When had her life become a worthy storyline in a soap opera?

"Unless you want an update on your father's latest acquisition property, yeah, it's about Emma."

Regina rolled her eyes at the pedantic lawyer. "Fine, what have you heard?"

"We have a date for her sentencing. Friday at four. I figured you'd want to be there?"

There was a pause before Regina spoke. "And my parents?"

"What about them?" Tink asked.

"I know you told them about yesterday. They talked to me last night. So are you going to tell them about this too?"

"Need I remind you who I work for, Miss Mills?" Tink asked. "Your parents received the same information from me earlier today. It was they who gave me permission to tell you. Even though I didn't tell them _everything_ which happened yesterday, your parents aren't blind. They know there's some sort of connection between you and Emma and they also know they'd be mad to try and keep you from her. Better to give you permission and know where you are rather than you sneaking off, right?"

"I suppose," Regina nodded. "And thanks, by the way, for not telling about … well, you know."

"Not telling them about the fact that I walked in to see you eating Emma's face? You're welcome. So, I assume you're going to be there on Friday?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "I'll be there. And Tink, I have a question."

Tink groaned. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this question at all?"

Regina could help but laugh. "Because you know me?"

"Go on then, what do you want?"

"I want to visit Emma. Once she's sentenced, she must be allowed visitors, right?"

There was a long pause and then an answer laced with incredulity. "Regina, they're not going to allow you to visit her."

"My parents?"

"No, the juvenile detention centre. Jesus, you're the victim and she's the perp. There's no way they'd let you meet with her."

"I'm not a victim," Regina spat, louder than she intended and causing a few of her fellow students to glance at her across the canteen. "I'm not a victim, Tink," she repeated more quietly, ignoring Zelena's raised eyebrows. "And Emma isn't a perp." She was starting to detest that word, which she had never used in her life before the past weekend.

"Yeah, you are," Tink replied. "And in a weird way, Emma is too. Since she's under eighteen, she's a ward of the court and they are not going to provide consent for a meeting between Emma and anyone who was in that bank on Friday. I'm sorry, Regina, but that's not going to happen. At least," there was a pause, "not in a normal visitor session."

"What does that mean?"

There was another hesitation on behalf of the lawyer, as if she were trying to decide how much to share.

"Have you heard of Restorative Justice?"

"No, what's that?"

"It's part of the system's program which works to reduce reoffending statistics. Basically, it's a meeting between the offender, that would be Emma, and the victim, that would be you. It's a mediated meeting which is designed to allow Emma the chance to apologise for what happened and listen to how their actions affected others."

"Emma doesn't need to apologise," Regina huffed. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, the law says differently," Tink replied. "I just mentioned it because that's the only way I can think of the two of you breathing the same air until she gets transferred to the adult prison. Look, we can talk about this more on Friday. I've got to go. Make sure you tell your parents this time, ok?"

"Yeah, ok, thanks Tink."

The line went dead and Regina was left looking at a curious Zelena who desperately wanted to know the other half of the conversation she had just listened to. Because she knew there was no other option, Regina began to tell her best friend what Emma's lawyer had said.

* * *

Emma settled into the routine of Storybrooke quicker than she had imagined. She had signed up for a number of classes, at Ruby's insistence, and had wiled away the hours either studying or lying on her bunk reading. It had been years since she had lost herself in a good book. It also turned out to be quite an effective way of deterring questions from her bunkmate who seemed to recognise the book as a symbol that Emma did not want to be disturbed.

Most of the time, Emma was alone. And she didn't mind that. Kelly often sat with her and MM for meals but wherever possible, Emma didn't seek out company. Even in class, she was reluctant to participate in team exercises. She wasn't sure why. No, that was a lie. Her session with Ruby on Tuesday had forced her to confront a few aspects of her personality, specifically herself as a friend.

She was a bad friend, she'd decided. The deal she had taken required her to testify against Lily. She felt nothing at the demise of Neal. Hell, she hadn't given a second thought to Peter since she left the police precinct and Felix was a distant memory. People who got close to Emma got hurt. Therefore, Emma had deduced, she should keep people at arms-length.

It was hard to do that when your roommate was MM, however. The questions were relentless. Emma provided short answers or met the queries with silence. But the short haired woman was undeterred.

"How many foster families did you have?"

"Lots," Emma muttered into her mashed potato.

"Were any of them nice?"

"Some."

"Were any of them evil?"

"Some."

"Did you ever get kicked out of foster care?"

"Yeah."

Why the girl was so interested in the foster system, Emma wasn't sure.

"How many foster brothers and sisters did you have?"

"Don't know."

"What was the worst thing you did in a foster home?"

"I dunno."

"Is it true you kidnapped Regina Mills?"

At that, Emma's head whipped up from where it had been hanging, staring at her empty plate and praying for the end of dinner service.

"What?"

"When you robbed the bank, the woman you kidnapped was Regina Mills, right?"

"How did you know that?"

Emma had been sure she hadn't mentioned Regina's name since she had been inside, except to Ruby and she was fairly sure her counsellor wasn't discussing her case with other inmates.

"It was on the news," MM said. "So, is it true?"

"I guess," Emma nodded, cheeks flushing but with remorse, not embarrassment.

"Wow, you're fucked in court tomorrow then. Henry Mills is friends with the important guy who's head of the police, right?"

"Yup," Emma nodded. She hadn't put much thought into her sentencing in all fairness. She had met with Tink the day before and discussed her elocution. As part of the deal, she was required to talk through what had happened that day and her role in the events. She was not looking forward to it but Tink had reassured her that it would be over quickly and that she just needed to focus on the things she didn't do, not what she did.

MM was still talking, something about the Mills family but Emma had tuned out. She finished her meal and stood while MM was still talking. The pixie haired teen looked a little affronted as Emma gathered her plate and walked off but she didn't follow. An hour later, when MM entered the bunk, Emma was lying on her bed with her back to the room. For once, MM decided not to try and start a conversation.

She didn't sleep well that night. The words of her elocution ran round and round in her head, chased by images, memories, of a brown-eyed girl.

* * *

Regina pushed the door to the courtroom open five minutes before the hearing was due to start. There weren't many people inside. A couple of police officers, whom she vaguely recognised as having been at the airfield the week before. A few individuals who looked like they may be journalists were talking quietly to one another near the back of the room. Regina spotted Tink, her blonde hair coiled neatly onto the top of her head. A man in a suit who could only be the DA was sat at an identical table on the other side of the aisle.

Sliding into the row at the back of the room, Regina folded her legs, interlaced her fingers over her knee and waited, eyes trained on the door she knew Emma would emerge through.

She didn't have to wait long. The blonde appeared after a few minutes, accompanied by a court officer. Regina's eyes took in the sight. The teen's head was hung low and she didn't look at anyone in the courtroom. She was wearing the same suit which Tink had brought for her appearance earlier in the week. Regina watched as Emma was guided to sit beside her lawyer. Tink lent over and said something, to which Emma seemed to nod in reply. Regina itched to move closer, to let Emma know she was there. But before she could stand, the court usher announced the arrival of the judge and the formal proceedings began.

It was quick, perfunctory. The charges against Emma were read along with the conditions of her deal. Then Tink stood and announced that Emma would be elocuting to the events of the previous week and her role in them.

Regina listened as the blonde stood and read from several pieces of paper. While she recognised the events described, it sounded strange to hear Emma speak of that day. The words were abstract, factual, with no feelings, spoken in a monotonous voice which didn't even sound like the young blonde. Only for the last paragraph did Emma express remorse and regret for what had happened, as well as saying that she had learned her lesson and would not break the law again. And then she sat down; it was over.

"And now, before I pass my sentence, is there anyone here who would like to make a statement?" the judge asked, scanning the courtroom.

Emma stared straight ahead of her and Regina gazed directly at the back of Emma's head, the long blonde hair braided neatly down her spine. Who was going to speak on her behalf? It wasn't like the teen had parents who could stand up and talk about her moral character or a beloved grade teacher who could lament about her hard work. No, she was alone.

"I'd like to make a statement."

Emma whipped her head around, eyes locking at once on Regina's as she registered her presence in the courtroom for the first time. The corner of Regina's mouth twitched slightly; a flicker of a smile. Emma was too stunned by the teenager's presence to react.

"Miss Mills," the judge said slowly, recognising the young woman immediately. "Go ahead."

Regina nodded and stepped out from the bench where she was sat and walked towards the front of the courtroom, stopping at the wooden balustrade which separated the viewing gallery from the main courtroom floor. Emma watched as the brunette took a deep, steadying breath and began to speak.


	25. The Sentencing

A/N: I am working to get Emma and Regina together regularly, I promise. It will happen! This chapter is not as long as anticipated but I have written a little festive treat for you which will be published either on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day so keen an eye out for that!

* * *

"What happened last Friday wasn't Emma's fault," Regina began.

The words sparked instant reactions from the courtroom. The judge's brow furrowed. Tink folded her arms. The journalists suddenly began to write. Emma let out a sigh and hung her head. This wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want anyone to make excuses for her actions. But Regina ignored everyone and continued.

"Emma got involved with a group of people who were a bad influence on her but she herself is not a bad person. I know she has pled guilty today and I know for some stubborn moral reason she wants to be punished but as far as I am concerned, the guilt I know she feels about what happened is punishment enough. Emma was the one who kept me alive that day. She was the one who made sure I didn't get hurt or even killed. She kept me safe, risking her own life to do so and without her, I wouldn't be standing here today."

At that, Regina turned slightly to look at Emma. Despite herself, the blonde had raised her gaze to stare at Regina as she spoke. Their eyes met. Regina smiled. Something deep within Emma fluttered, the way it always did when the brunette looked at her with such intensity.

"That day was the scariest of my life, but it didn't take me long to realise I was going to survive. I knew nothing was going to happen to me because Emma was there and she protected me. It might sound crazy and perhaps it is but even when there were guns and threats directed at us, I knew I was safe. And it wasn't just me who was being threatened. Emma put her own life in danger to save me by turning against the people she had been allied with. Emma risked being killed by people she used to think of as friends to keep me alive."

Consider this was entirely unplanned, Regina mused to herself, it's going surprisingly well. Perhaps those years in the debating society really had taught her how to present a comprehensive argument. She took another deep breath and continued.

"I know Emma is technically guilty of the crime she has been charged but as far as I am concerned, she did not kidnap me. I went willingly with Emma that day. It was Neal Gold who kidnapped me; who forced me to accompany them to the airfield. If he were alive today, he should be facing these charges and more. Emma was present, yes, but she was not responsible for what happened. As I said, I went willingly with Emma and it was the others who were present who could be considered to have kidnapped me. I hope that my opinion on this, as the only person in this courtroom who knows what it felt like to be held at gunpoint by Neal, is taken into account.

"I understand that our country's law states she needs to be punished by years in jail, but I believe that Emma should be given the chance to turn her life around. A lenient sentence would give her the opportunity to start fresh and become a good citizen. And … and I want to help her get there. Emma deserves a second chance and shouldn't be held accountable for her actions that day when she and I both had loaded guns pointed at us. She did what anyone would have done to keep themselves alive. She also kept me alive and for that I will forever be grateful."

There was a long pause after Regina finished. The judge looked slowly between Regina and Emma. The two young girls were now gazing at one another as if the rest of the court room didn't exist. It did, however, and Tink sat smirking between the two teenagers while the cluster of journalists were suddenly furiously scribbling notes on their pads.

"Ok, well, thank you Miss Mills," the judge said eventually.

"Thank you, your honour, for letting me speak," Regina said, at last turning her attention back to the judge. "Emma doesn't have a family to speak on her behalf and I believe it is important that you understand what sort of person she is before you pass your sentence."

The judge cocked her head. "And what sort of person is Miss Swan, in your opinion?"

Regina turned back to Emma and flashed her a soft smile. "Emma is one of the most honourable, caring and brave people I have ever met in my life."

Another silence filled the courtroom, with only the scratching of pens on paper to be heard.

"Ok, thank you Miss Mills, you may sit down," the judge smiled.

Regina hesitated before returning to the back of the courtroom, forcing her feet to carry her away from Emma. The blonde's eyes watched as the older teen retreated and sat down on the bench to await Emma's verdict.

"Well, after hearing everything here today," the judge began, drawing Emma's gaze back to the front of the court, "I am ready to make my recommendation. I know you have made a deal with the DA in exchange for your testimony, Miss Swan, and assuming you comply with these terms, I will agree to your five-year sentence on the charge of kidnapping."

Emma nodded her understanding at that. It was what Tink had told her to expect. The judge had no choice; that was the minimum sentence for a felony kidnapping change.

"However," the judge continued, "in light of those impassioned words by Miss Mills, I would like to add that you will be eligible for parole after twelve months, not the usual twenty-four."

"What?" Emma gasped. Tink hissed at her to be quiet.

"The events of last week were reprehensible, as I'm sure you are aware. Your involvement in them is not taken lightly by this court. However, I can see a great amount of regret and remorse within you, Miss Swan, and it is clear to me that you will not get involved in this behaviour again. Am I right?"

"Yes, your honour," Emma said. "I mean, no. I mean, yes, you're right. No I won't get involved in any criminal behaviour ever again."

The judge nodded slowly. "You have done wrong and you will be punished suitably. However, I do not think it is necessary for you to serve an unduly long sentence based on the evidence presented here today. If your behaviour while in the juvenile centre and the adult prison once you are moved remains impeccable, you will be free soon after your eighteenth birthday. Work hard inside, gain some sort of qualification and perhaps you will be able to put all of this behind you as a youthful indiscretion and when you are released, you'll be ready to become a productive member of society."

"Yes, your honour," Emma nodded fervently. "Thank you."

"I think, perhaps, it is Miss Mills who deserves your thanks," the judge said, lifting the gavel and twisting it several times between her fingers as she looked at the young brunette now sat once more at the back of the room. "Court is adjourned."

The old wood cracked down on the desk and the judge got to her feet. Everyone else in the courtroom did the same as the judge stepped down from her seat and disappeared through a back door into her chambers. As soon as she was out of sight, Emma turned to Regina who had already begun to make her way towards the blonde.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked as Regina approached her.

"Saving your ass from serving five years in prison," Tink said before Regina could speak. "But seriously, Regina, could you not have told me you'd planned to speak? Your parents are going to kill me."

"I didn't plan to speak," Regina said, having reached the small balustrade which separated her from Emma now. "But I'm glad I did."

"Thank you, I suppose," Emma said, an unstoppably wide smile now on her lips.

"You're welcome," Regina replied, grinning back.

"Ok, let's move this out of here," Tink said, noting the cluster of journalists who had stayed in the courtroom and were watching the interactions. "Regina, come outside with me now. I'll see if I can get you down to the cells for a few minutes but don't hold your breath. Emma," she nodded towards the court officer who was standing beside her with handcuffs, "go with him. I'll be down as soon as I can."

* * *

Emma leaned against the rough brick wall of the small cell she had been unceremoniously placed in and closed her eyes. What had just happened? Had Regina Mills somehow managed to get the judge to reduce her parole requirement down to a year? Was she really facing the prospect of being free, in theory, in twelve months?

Another cell clanged open further down the row as the next prisoner was summoned up to the courtroom for what must be the final sentencing of the day. It was close to the end of the working week and the judges would doubtless be itching to get home. Emma listened as the footsteps retreated and then all was quiet again. She didn't expect to be disturbed until her transport arrived. Even Tink wasn't going to be able to persuade a prison officer to let Regina Mills in to see her.

She settled as comfortably as she could on the hard wooden bench, waiting to be taken back to Storybrooke. Back to the place she would be calling home for the next ten months. Ten months there, two months in 'real' prison. That was better than she could ever have dared wish for. Tink had told her to expect to serve two years before being eligible for parole. But now, thanks to Regina, she could be free next summer.

Did she deserve that? She certainly didn't deserve Regina's support. In fact, it was she who owed a debt to Regina. She thought back to what Ruby had said in their latest counselling session. Restorative Justice. Making amends for the wrongs she had done with her victims. Regina was that victim. Ruby had suggested it casually, telling Emma they would talk about it more the following week.

But Emma had already gone to the library and looked up the rehabilitation program. She would be required to meet with Regina and discuss what had happened on that day. They would talk, ask questions, share feelings. She would apologise and listen to how her actions had affected Regina. Emma had already apologised and didn't think she would ever be able to apologise enough. She also didn't think she could bear to hear the impact that day had had on Regina. She didn't know if she could talk in such an open way, not with Regina if someone else was in the room.

Heels clicked on the flagstone floor of the underground cells. Another prisoner being summoned, no doubt. Emma kept her eyes closed, still thinking of the Restorative Justice program.

"Emma."

Her eyes snapped open to see Regina and Tink standing on the other side of her cell.

"Regina," Emma said, standing up from the bench and crossing at once. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you," Regina replied. "And thanks to Tink's excellent negotiation skills, we've got five minutes."

"Five minutes before what?"

"Before you go back to Storybrooke," Tink said. "Now, I shouldn't do this but … I'll just wait over here, ok?" She jabbed her thumb back down the corridor. "Just, don't start making out or anything. There are cameras everywhere down here."

Both teenagers flushed red at the comment, making Tink smirk as she headed away from them. When she was out of earshot, Regina turned back to Emma.

"How are you?"

"I'm … good, I think," Emma said eventually. "Um, thanks, for what you said. I mean, I'm pretty sure you're the reason I got such a good sentence."

"You're still going to prison though," Regina said sadly, reaching up and covering one of Emma's hands which was wrapped around a bar. "You've got to serve a year."

"Better than two, or five, or twenty-five," Emma pointed out.

"I suppose," Regina sighed. "How is it in there?"

Emma shrugged. She didn't know how to describe Storybrooke. She hadn't been there long enough to form an opinion but it really wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be.

"I know we don't have much time," Regina continued, "but I needed to see you. Tink said she thinks there might be a way for us to see each other."

"See each other? You still want to see me?"

At that, Regina's brow furrowed deeply. "What? Of course I do. Emma, what makes you think I don't want to see you?"

Emma stepped back from the bars, pulling her hand from beneath Regina's gentle grip and gestured to the small cell she was locked in. "Come on, Regina. As if you are really interested in someone like me."

"I am," Regina replied earnestly, reaching her hand towards Emma and into the cage, beckoning the blonde back towards her. "Emma, I am so interested in you. I … look, I can't explain it but there's something between us, right?"

"I guess," Emma shrugged, still too far away for Regina to touch.

"That kiss," Regina went on. "I've been thinking about that all week, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Emma admitted, a faint heat coiling low in her belly at the memory. It was true, she had been thinking about the kiss every day, every hour since it had happened.

"I broke up with Daniel earlier this week," Regina revealed after a pause. "Well, we were never officially together but I told him I didn't want to keep dating."

"You did?"

"I did," Regina nodded. "Look, I know we hardly know each other and I appreciate the circumstances aren't exactly normal or convenient but I don't care. I like you Emma. And I think you like me."

"I do," Emma said at once, stepping forwards and again and interlacing her fingers with Regina's. "Christ, I really like you Regina but look at me and look at you. How is this ever going to work?"

"Are you giving up on us before we've even tried?" Regina asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Is there any point in trying? What would your parents say?"

The idea of Mr and Mrs Mills ever accepting Emma's existence in the world let alone her as their daughter's girlfriend was unfathomable. They may have agreed to pay for her legal representation but that didn't mean they wanted her to hang around the family like a bad smell.

Regina bit her lip. "Yeah, well, let me worry about them. Right now, all Tink and I need you to do is to sign up for this Restorative Justice thing. Have you heard of it?"

"Yeah, my counsellor mentioned it," Emma said slowly. "You … you'd be up for that?"

"I'd be up for us seeing each other and being able to talk, yes," Regina nodded. "It's not the most normal concept for a first date but Tink says there's no way I'd be allowed to visit you under any other circumstances. Something about you being a minor and me being a victim. So, if you want us to talk and spend time together between now and when you get moved to the state prison, this is the only way."

Green eyes scanned the beautiful, optimistic face before her, trying to comprehend. Emma could understand her own attraction to Regina. The teen was stunning, intelligent, funny, kind-hearted and simply lit up a room with her presence. But what did Regina see in her? How could this incredible being possibly be interested in Emma?

"I don't get it," Emma sighed eventually.

Regina's fingers, interlaced with Emma's, squeezed gently. "Neither do I, to be honest," she said, not needing to ask what the blonde was talking about. "I know it doesn't make much sense but does that matter? Can't we just be happy that we've found that one person who makes us feel like this?"

Unable to stop herself, Emma waggled her eyebrows. "Feel like what?"

A laugh that made Emma's heart skip filled the small, dark space. "Oh, Emma, you make me feel so many things. And I'm still coming to terms with them because I've never felt them before and I certainly didn't think a girl would make me feel like this, but I think I could sum it all up in a word for you."

"One word?" Emma asked. Clearly it pays dividends to send children to the most expensive school in New York. Emma could think of a hundred words to describe how she felt about Regina but there was no way she was going to be able to sum up everything which was swirling deliciously inside her in a single word.

"One word," Regina nodded. "You, Emma Swan, quite simply make me feel special. And according to every book I've ever read, every film I've ever watched, every song I've ever listened to, that's what we're all looking for."

Emma swallowed thickly. The word, simple as it was, did indeed ring true. Regina did make her feel special. She didn't think she was worthy of such a feeling but it was undeniable when the brunette was near her.

"Special," she repeated.

"Very," Regina nodded. A lopsided smile crept over Emma's face. At the sight, Regina broke into a toothy grin. "God you're beautiful when you smile," the brunette said, stepping even closer to the bars and pulling on the hand still holding Emma's.

Although she moved forwards, Emma glanced up. She could instantly see two cameras trained on them and were sure there were more behind her.

"Regina," she said quietly, "I really think we shouldn't."

"I know and we won't, but I want to," Regina said, her voice low and husky.

Emma groaned under her breath. "God you're such a tease. How are you so good at flirting?"

Regina shrugged, rubbing her fingers against the back of Emma's palm and setting the skin alight with her delicate touch. "I guess I just like to practice. You know what schools are like."

At that, Emma's smile faded. "School is a distant memory to me," Emma sighed.

A wave of guilt flowed over Regina as she realised what she had said. "I didn't mean to upset, Emma. I'm sorry. And maybe you can get your GED when you're at Storybrooke. If you need any study materials, I can give you some of mine if you like?"

"Thanks," Emma said quietly. "I'll let you know. To be honest, I've never been great at school. I think getting up to a basic standard for everything is where I should focus, not on exams. At least there's nothing else to do for the next year. It's not like I'll be distracted by anything inside."

"Except for me," Regina said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You won't be inside," Emma frowned.

"Not inside Storybrooke, no," Regina agreed. "But I think a few memories of me are safely lodged here," she touched Emma's forehead with her free hand, "and here." Fingers drifted down to rest in the centre of Emma's chest.

The ribs beneath Regina's fingertips trembled. Emma stared down at the point where Regina was touching her, heat radiating through the thin fabric which separated them.

"Regina, I -"

"Swan, time to go."

The two teens sprang apart as a court officer appeared, Tink hurrying beside him. The lawyer smirked at Regina whose cheeks were flushed red before turning to Emma. "Right, your transport's here. I'll be in touch with you when I hear about the court date for Lily's trial. We'll need to prepare for your cross. Any questions?"

"Um, no," Emma said, averting her eyes from Regina as the court officer handcuffed her. When would this act become less humiliating, she wondered?

"Ok, well, I guess I'll see you in a few weeks or so," Tink smiled. "Well done today. That was the best result we could have hoped for. The judge clearly saw something in you and recognises that you deserve a second chance."

"Thanks to Regina," Emma mumbled.

"True," Tink grinned, looking at the brunette who couldn't help but look pleased with herself.

"Come on," the officer said, interrupting the conversation. "Miss Bell, you and Miss Mills are going to need to leave this area before Swan can be moved."

"Why? She's not a danger to us?" Regina asked.

"Protocol," the officer shrugged.

Regina frowned but said nothing. With a final glance at Emma and a gentle, reassuring smile, she turned and followed the retreating lawyer back down the corridor. Emma watched them go until both women had disappeared from view. As soon as they had vacated the area, the door to her cell swung open and she was led out to the rear of the holding cells and loaded into an armoured truck just like before. But that afternoon, she was the only prisoner. As she stepped up into the vehicle, she glanced upwards to see the bright blue sky, scattered with wisps of clouds.

"One year," she murmured to herself as she stepped inside the truck and the sky disappeared from her field of vision.

* * *

A/N: Happy early Christmas!


	26. The Press

A/N: Hi All! I'm back home in Asia which means I'm able to publish two chapters per week again. Yay! Plus, I caught up on my writing on the plane, so I have extra-long chapters for you. Enjoy!

* * *

"That was foolish, you know," Tink said as she and Regina descended the courtroom steps, the afternoon sun glinting off the marble pillars. "Cute but foolish."

The teen didn't need to ask what the lawyer was referring to. "It got her time off her sentence, didn't it? I don't regret what I said."

"You might tomorrow," Tink said, nodding subtly towards a press throng which was clustered on the steps for an unrelated case. Reporters were lapping up the words of an unknown man who had been found not guilty, a smug lawyer by his side as the microphones absorbed the script. "Those journalists who were in there are going to have a field day with what they heard. You need to tell your parents what happened before your father reads it in tomorrow's paper."

"What should I tell them?"

The simple, innocent question made Tink pause in her tracks. Looking to the young woman by her side, she was reminded that Regina was just eighteen. Barely more than a child. What might be blindingly obvious to a jaded attorney seemed yet to have solidified in the brunette's mind.

"Just tell them the truth, sweetie," Tink offered gently. "Tell them how you feel. Your parents love you and they want you to be happy. It might take them a bit of time to come around, but they will if they don't want to lose you as a daughter."

"They'd never lose me as a daughter," Regina said quickly.

"No, of course not, but they need to know how you feel about Emma sooner or later and I think sooner is better, don't you?"

The lawyer offered a kind smile and a pat on Regina's shoulder before she set off down the steps again. Regina watched her go before heading towards the parking lot where she had left her car. Behind her, two men wearing sunglasses and looking far too conspicuous, fell into step. Her security detail had entered the courtroom and taken seats in the far corner; Regina had ignored their presence. They had also tried to follow when she descended into the cells beneath the court, but their progress was stopped by security and they had instead loitered with surly looks on their faces as they waited for Regina to reappear.

* * *

"How was it?"

Emma internally rolled her eyes as she walked into her room. Could she not at least sit down before the Spanish Inquisition began? Apparently not, judging by the eager expression on her roommate's face.

"Fine," Emma said, toeing off her shoes and climbing up the ladder, hoping it would shut MM up. It didn't. The woman stood up from her own bed and leaned on the rail of Emma's to continue their conversation.

"What did you get?"

"A year," Emma said shortly.

"A year? For kidnapping? How come?"

Emma was starting to become curious how this teenager knew so much about the sentence lengths for various state and federal crimes but didn't want to invite further conversation. Perhaps it was just thanks to her many brushes with the law during her youth.

"I guess the judge wanted to give me a second chance," she said simply, not knowing what more she could offer.

It was true, after all. But the fact that Regina had been the one to speak out was information Emma didn't want to share. She still wasn't sure how MM had found out who it was that Emma had kidnapped. And that was another truth; Emma had kidnapped Regina. Despite what Regina said that afternoon about not feeling like she'd been kidnapped and having gone willingly with Emma, it was kidnap. Ok, the gun wasn't loaded and she hadn't hurt Regina. But she had been the one to tie her up. She had held her at gunpoint to get out of the bank. She had failed to protect her when Neal got mad. Her gut clenched as she remembered the slowly healing scar across Regina's lip.

Amazingly, gratefully, MM seemed to be done with her questioning. As the pixie haired brunette sat back down, Emma rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball. Closing her eyes, she relived the events in the courtroom. Her own elocution was a blur but Regina's words, every single one of them, were imprinted in her mind. As was her touch, her smile, her smell.

"Is Ruby still here?" Emma asked, sitting up suddenly.

"Nah," MM replied. "The counsellors all leave about five on weekdays. There'll be someone on duty if you want to talk though. There's always someone here. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just had a question about my case," Emma said, lying back down. She had hoped to get the ball rolling on the Restorative Justice program. If that was the only way she and Regina were going to be able to see each other while she was inside, then that was what she was going to do.

* * *

Déjà vu, Regina thought as she walked through the door which connected the garage to the main part of the house and came face to face with both her parents. She had understood their nervousness on her first day back at school. And presumably they wanted to know how court had been after Regina confirmed she would be going.

"Hi," Regina said, offering a cheery smile.

"Regina."

Oh dear, Regina thought to herself as she registered her father's tone. It was rare for Regina to be scolded but she knew that must be what was coming. Both her parents were stony-faced.

"What's wrong?"

Rather than speaking, her father held out an iPad to his daughter, the screen illuminated with a news article. _Mills Daughter Stockholm Victim_ , announced the headline.

"What?" Regina exclaimed, grabbing the device and scanning the article which had been published, she noted, ten minutes earlier. Was she too young to lament about how she hated the digital age? "How did you …"

"I get alerted whenever your name is published by any of the major news outlets," Henry said matter of factly. Regina tried not to think about how creepy that, in theory, was. "Care to explain this?"

"I don't have Stockholm," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "Jeez, I was only with her for a few hours that day. I was just doing what I thought was right."

Henry reached out and took the iPad back from his daughter so he could read the words from the screen. "'Regina Mills, daughter of tech giant Henry Mills, gave an impassioned speech in open court this afternoon, declaring that she went willingly with female teen kidnapper, Emma Swan, last week, the events of which culminated in a shootout inside the Mills family jet at Teterboro. Regina, 18, spoke on behalf of the accused and appears to have been a powerful contributing factor in the surprisingly light sentence Judge Williams handed Swan.' That sounds like Stockholm to me, Regina."

"That's not what this is," Regina sighed exasperatedly.

"Then what is it?" Cora asked. "Please explain it to us because your father and I are trying to understand and we're struggling. We just want to help you, Regina. If you need to speak to a therapist or -"

"I like Emma, ok?" Regina interrupted.

"Yes, we figured that out, princess," Henry said. "But we don't understand why."

"I don't just mean like, Daddy. I mean, _like_ like. And I may only be eighteen but I think the definition of liking someone the way I like Emma is that the connection is indescribable. Can you tell me why you like Mom?" The final question was asked in accompaniment with Regina folding her arms in what she hoped was a sense of finality.

Henry opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. Cora too was stunned into silence. While both Mills knew their daughter was fond of the mysterious blonde, neither had contemplated the true nature of the feelings the girls appeared to share.

"Fine. Can we sit down and talk about this?" Regina asked after about thirty seconds of silence. "I'll answer any questions you have but I'm tired and hungry."

"Hungry," Cora repeated, before springing into action and disappearing to give the household staff instructions about dinner as well as asking for a snack to be prepared for Regina.

Left alone in the hallway, Henry hesitated before turning and leading the way into the small living room. It was a space they tended to use when it was just the three of them as it was too small to entertain but had a pleasant cosy vibe. Regina sat down in her usual seat, curling her feet beneath her and pulling out her cell to check her texts as she waited for her mother. There was one from Zelena confirming their plans for the following day and asking how the sentencing went. At least someone is on my side, Regina mused as she texted her best friend back to let her know the results.

"Right," Cora said, coming back in with a small plate of cut fruit for Regina which she handed over before sitting down. "So, um, questions."

"I'm guessing you have a few," Regina said, picking up an apple boat and munching on it. "And I can't promise you I have the answers but I will be honest with you."

"That's all we ever ask of you, Regina," Henry said. "You should have told us of your plans to speak at court. Or told Tink, at least. We could have had the courtroom cleared of press so this mess," he gestured at the iPad, "didn't happen."

"I didn't know. I didn't go there planning to speak. It was a spur of the moment decision which I'm sure is evident if you were to read those court transcripts back. It wasn't my most eloquent argument."

"It worked though. You must have said something which rang true with the judge."

"Maybe she just saw what I see; that Emma's a good person," Regina shrugged.

"That's not the only thing you see though, is it?" Cora pressed.

Regina blushed a little at the insinuation. Although it was true that Emma was beautiful, that wasn't what Regina was most drawn to. She was still unsure of the right words to describe that special, rare and utterly intoxicating sensation she felt whenever she saw, spoke to, touched or even thought about Emma.

"I told you, I can't really what it is about her but there's something. A connection, I guess."

"A connection," Cora repeated.

"Yeah, something which I can't really describe but I can tell you I never had it with Daniel."

Henry and Cora glanced at one another, silent communication occurring between the couple. "And what about Daniel?" Cora asked.

"I've told him I'm no longer interested in dating him," Regina replied firmly.

"You told the son of good friends of ours, of business contacts of ours, that you don't want to be involved any more? Regina, you can't -"

"Whatever you're about to say, Daddy, stop, please. I love you but you have no say in who I do or don't date. I know you like Daniel and his family. I like them too. But I don't see a future with him and it's not fair on either of us to continue seeing each other if that's the case."

"Are you telling me you see a future with Emma?" Cora asked, agape.

"Maybe," Regina shrugged, folding her arms. "It's not like we've spent much quality time together, but I know she makes me happy and she makes me feel things Daniel never did."

"Have you and Emma -" Cora stopped herself abruptly, as if she realised she didn't want to know the answer to the question she had been about to answer. "Regina, sweetheart, you can't be serious. I mean, Emma Swan is a convicted felon."

"She made a mistake."

"A mistake? Regina, she kidnapped you! She's got some sort of spell over you, so you can't see what she's done is so wrong that she deserves to be locked up for years. And now, thanks to you, she'll be out in less than twelve months," Cora spat.

"Mom, stop it," Regina exclaimed, jumping to her feet, sending the fruit plate which had been on her lap cascading to the floor. All three Mills ignored the split food. "I will answer your questions but I'm not going to sit here and defend Emma's character. She's a good person and that's the end of it. And I know Daddy saw that in her, otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to let Tink represent her. It's only now you're thinking of us together that you're attacking her. She's seventeen, she's just a kid."

"So are you," Henry reminded her. "And we don't want you throwing your life away on some teenage infatuation."

"I'm not throwing my life away, Daddy. I'm living it. I'm not saying Emma and I are going to be together forever, but I do want to give us a chance. I'm following my heart and I'm doing what makes me happy. Isn't that what you both want for me?"

Cora's forehead creased with sadness. "Darling, of course that's what we want. We've only ever wanted the best for you. But are you really sure this is best? After all, what sort of future could you possibly have with Emma compared to someone like Daniel?"

The teen was about to answer with regards to the two individuals' economic status when she faltered. "Is this about Emma being a girl? Are you mad because I might be gay?"

"Regina," Henry scolded lightly. "You know us both better than that. We don't care who it is who makes you happy but -"

"But it can't be Emma," Regina interrupted. "Look, I'm not going to lie. This was a surprise for me too. It wasn't like she walked into the bank and I fell head over heels for her. I didn't even know I … I didn't know I was attracted to girls until a week ago. It's confusing and scary and I don't know how things are going to work out but I can tell you that no one has ever made me feel the way Emma does. I know the way we met isn't normal and I know she's done wrong. But she's not a bad person and that day she saved my life and I saved hers. Please, just, don't write us off before you've given us a chance."

"Us?" Henry asked. "Are you and Emma and 'us' already?"

"We're a something," Regina shrugged. "I don't know what. I don't think she does either. But we both want to find out more about that something. And now I'm eighteen, I don't need your permission to go and visit her, but I would like your blessing."

Once again, Cora and Henry exchanged glances. Regina waited as her parents engaged in their magical silent communication. She knew it was a lot to take in, to process. It was enough to find out that their daughter who had been seemingly happily dating a man for the past three months was now interested in a woman. Let alone the fact that the woman in question was a convicted felon.

"We won't stop you seeing her," Henry said, jolting Regina back to the room. "And although you are technically eighteen, make no mistake that I could block your visits if I wished." Regina opened her mouth to protest. "But I won't and your mother and I accept that you and Emma want to spend time together, I suppose. That doesn't mean we approve of the relationship or whatever you become. As far as we are concerned, Emma is not good enough for you and the ball is in your court to prove she is. If you and she can do that, then you have our blessing."

"Ok," Regina nodded. "Thank you, Daddy."

Frankly, although harsh, the words her father had spoken were a better outcome than Regina had even dreamed of. She hadn't expected their blessing, but she had expected a greater resistance. Perhaps they sensed, rightly so, that to stand between Regina and Emma would drive a wedge between parents and child which could be irreversible.

"Go and do your school work now," Cora dismissed. "I'll call you for dinner."

* * *

The weekend dragged slowly. With no classes to attend and no real friends to speak of inside, Emma found herself watching the hands tick slowly around on the clock more than she cared to admin. The book she had checked out of the library had failed to capture her attention and she often found herself staring into space, the book lying on her chest. Her mind wandered to one person and one person only.

On Saturday evening, she and MM went down to the tv room and watched the weekly movie. It was a remake of a Disney classic. Yet another story about a princess finding her prince. When would Hollywood make its first movie about a lesbian princess? Emma thought to herself as they walked back to the bunks. Never, probably. Parents wouldn't want their children exposed to such a lifestyle. Hollywood had the power to legitimise and even in 2018, the idea of legitimising homosexuality in a children's film was still not mainstream.

Sunday was even slower than Saturday. Emma, MM and Kelly went outside to the recreation space and watched some of the other girls play basketball. None of them wanted to join in and the invitation wasn't extended. But it was nice to be breathing somewhat fresh air. Beyond the high walls of Storybrooke, Emma could distantly hear the cacophony of New York life. Oh what she wouldn't give to be out there, to be free. Even faced with a sentence half as long as she had expected, the future was bleak. Only one silver lining remained.

Emma was loitering outside Ruby's locked (she tried the handle, just out of curiosity) office door on Monday morning when the redhead staggered down the corridor with a teetering pile of files.

"Wow, someone's keen," Ruby said as she spotted Emma just before half the papers splattered on the floor.

"I have a couple of questions," Emma said, darting forwards to help the counsellor.

"I heard about your sentence," Ruby continued as the two of them set about picking up the scattered papers. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," Emma grinned. "Got any tips on how to guarantee I make parole?"

"Nothing in life is guaranteed, Emma," the older woman said wisely as she stood up, clutching most of the paperwork and Emma holding a few strays. "Just keep your nose clean, don't fall in with anyone who might lead you down the wrong path, get involved in the extracurricular activities, study hard and make sure you put together a plan for what you'll do when you're out."

"Piece of cake," Emma deadpanned.

Ruby chucked as she unlocked her office door. "I'll help you, don't worry. Um, are your questions quick as I have an appointment in half an hour."

"I don't know," Emma replied. "I wanted to ask you about the Restorative Justice thing. What do we have to do to make that happen?"

Placing her paperwork on the desk and taking the other pieces from Emma, Ruby sat herself down in her chair and gestured for Emma to take the one opposite. "You're interested in participating in the Restorative Justice program, am I right?"

"Yes."

"Ok, well this is a program which involves not just you but the victims, so it can take a little time to get up and running. We'll need to reach out to everyone who was in the bank that day and find out if any of them are interested in meeting with you, then there are some sessions which -"

"No, I don't want to meet with all of them, just Regina," Emma interrupted.

Ruby frowned. "You can't pick and choose who you do this with, Emma. The crime in which you were involved affected a number of people, not just Regina Mills. If you sign up for the Restorative Justice program, that means all of the victims have a right to meet with you. They all have equal rights to an apology, after all."

The words landed on Emma like a tonne of bricks. Of course Ruby was right. Of course every single person in that bank deserved an apology. It wasn't just Regina whose life had been turned upside down that day. But the prospect of facing all those people, of telling them she was sorry for what she had done and hearing how her actions had affected them …

"Thanks," Emma said, jumping to her feet. "I'll think about it."

"Hey, hold up," Ruby said. "Why the sudden turn around? You were waiting outside my office to get this thing started and now you're not sure? What's changed?"

"I … it's just … I need to think."

"I have no doubt," Ruby nodded. "The Restorative Justice program is not something to be entered into lightly. It takes a big person to apologise for their actions, especially when those they have wronged have the opportunity to respond. But my question is why your enthusiasm for this excellent initiative changed once I told you it wouldn't just be Regina you were apologising to. Is there something you want to tell me?"

There was something knowing in the redhead's tone. Emma scanned her face, trying to decide how much she trusted Ruby. She hadn't spoken of Regina to anyone within Storybrooke yet. But Ruby wasn't anyone. She was her counsellor. If there was one person in this whole place Emma could trust, it had to be Ruby.

"Regina and I … we like each other, I guess," Emma said eventually. As the words left her mouth, the weight which had hit her earlier lifted somewhat. Thinking about Regina always made her feel better and it seemed talking about her worked that way too.

"Yes, I figured as much," Ruby said with a smile.

"How?"

Ruby reached into her handbag and pulled out a newspaper. Flicking through it, she found the article she was looking for and pushed it across the desk towards Emma. The blonde picked it up at once and gawped at the headline.

"Stockholm Syndrome?"

"All the major outlets have run something about Miss Mills having Stockholm after what she did in court," Ruby nodded. "It's not front-page news but it's been a popular story all weekend. People love to see how the other side live, right?"

"She hasn't got Stockholm Syndrome," Emma said, having finished the short article. "Shit, did her parents see this? They're going to kill me."

"It would have been hard for them to avoid. Plus, I suspect their lawyer, Miss Bell, would have told them. They're paying for your legal fees, after all," Ruby pointed out.

"Well, not any more, I'm sure," Emma huffed. "Damn media. Why can't they just leave us alone?"

"So you and Regina are an us?"

Emma shrugged. "I mean, it's not exactly been stated like that. I'm in here, in case you didn't know, so I can't take her out on dates or anything. But she dumped her loser boyfriend. That's got to be a good sign, right?"

"So it would seem," Ruby nodded. "And is this why you want to do the Restorative Justice program? Because you know it is the only way for you and Regina to have contact?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "She told me to sign up for it."

"Well, it would be something we could arrange but you need to understand it's not an exclusive program. If you want to do this in order to meet with Regina, you have to be open to meeting with everyone else. I think you recognise that's the only way it could possibly be fair, right?"

"Yes, but … I'm not sure I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

Emma looked down at her lap, fingernails scratching the edge of her thumb, trying to find the words. "To hear what they have to say."

The counsellor had worked with youngsters in the same position before. It was one thing to admit to a crime but it was quite another to hear the honest truth from the victims. That was why the program was extensive and offered support on both sides in the lead up to the meetings as well as during and afterwards.

"Emma, we can talk about this in more detail if you want to know your options and your responsibilities. I would be right beside you every step of the way. I can already tell you're carrying a huge amount of guilt for what happened that day and you clearly displayed remorse in court last week. Even if you weren't doing this to meet Regina, I would recommend the program to you. I think it could be extremely useful for you and for those people who were in the bank that day. Do you want to schedule a meeting with me later this week to discuss it?"

The blonde hesitated for a moment but then nodded. Ruby was right. It wasn't just about Regina. And while she couldn't stomach the thought of sitting across from any of those other innocents just yet, perhaps, with time, she would. And if that was going to help her as well as those whom she hurt, surely she had to give it a try.

"Ok, how about Thursday afternoon. You don't have class according to my schedule I have for you."

"Creepy but ok," Emma grinned.

"Oh, we keep tabs on everything in here," Ruby grinned, tapping her keyboard to make the appointment.

"So, just out of interest, how long after I start the program would I have to meet people?" Emma asked as she got to her feet.

"It depends on you and the person you're meeting. Some can happen quickly. Some can take months. It's a process."

"And the meetings, they can be regular, right?"

"Not usually but sometimes, yes. If we feel it is beneficial to both parties to continue the meetings and dialogue."

"And who decides that? If it's beneficial, I mean?"

"Are you asking me who is responsible for making a decision which will determine whether you'll be able to see Regina regularly between now and when you leave?"

Emma shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. "Yeah, I guess."

"That, Emma, would be me," Ruby offered with a wolfish grin.

* * *

A/N: Life tip: you know that person on Twitter or Instagram you're silently wishing would slide into your DMs? Make the first move: it might just change your life.


	27. The Program

A/N: Yay! Wednesday chapters are back!

* * *

"So, you're going to meet with Emma as part of a program where she's supposed to apologise to you and you're supposed to tell her how being kidnapped made you feel, right?"

"Pretty much," Regina replied, stabbing some more lettuce onto her fork and nodding at her best friend.

"Weird," Zelena announced. "Weirdest start to a relationship ever."

"Right again."

"And you can do this for months? The concept sounds like a one-off meeting to me. What happens once she apologises?"

Regina faltered. "I'm not entirely sure. But I know it can happen over several weeks."

"Yeah, weeks, not months. She's locked up in that dump until next summer. What are you gonna do once these weird meetings end?"

"I … don't know."

Seeing the crestfallen look on Regina's face, Zelena tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, I'm sure you'll figure it out. In the meantime, you can tell her how you felt," she waggled her eyebrows, "when she kidnapped you. Is that what you like? Bit of bondage and – Ouch!" the redhead exclaimed as Regina's chocolate bar hit her in the forehead. "I'm keeping this as compensation for my injury."

"As long as you shut up about bondage, you've got a deal," Regina laughed.

"Fine," Zelena grumbled, undoing the wrapper and taking a bite before continuing to speak, flecks of chocolate flying everywhere. "But I still think this is not going to work as a long term solution. Once the program is finished, what then?"

"I don't know, Zee," Regina sighed. "We'll think of something. We have to. I can't not see her."

"Dude, you've known her for two weeks."

Regina shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't understand it either. All I know is that the thought of not seeing her until she gets out is killing me."

"Why can't you just go and visit? It's a juvenile centre, right? They must allow visits the same way a prison does."

"Yeah, technically but Emma is a minor."

"Cradle snatcher," Zelena sniggered.

Regina continued, ignoring the comment. "And the state are effectively her parental guardians and apparently they wouldn't grant permission for her to meet with me because of our … history."

"But this restoring justice thingy is ok?"

"It's in a controlled, moderated setting," Regina replied. "It's not like I'm just popping in to say hi. We won't be left alone or anything."

"Shame," Zelena winked. "You're going to have to wait a year to get freaky."

I threw my chocolate bar too soon, Regina thought to herself, instead settling for shooting her best friend the death stare. "Not everything in life is about sex, Zee."

"Says the girl who's waiting for marriage," Zelena teased.

"I'm not waiting for marriage. I'm waiting for the right person. Someone I trust and feel safe with. Come on, are you really gonna tease me about this again? I have no regrets about my decisions with past boyfriends and you know that."

"Perhaps the fact that they were boys were the problem," Zelena pointed out, stuffing the last morsel of chocolate into her mouth and balling the wrapper up in her palm. "What did your parents say about that, by the way?"

"About Emma being a girl?" Regina asked. At Zelena's affirmative nod, mouth still full of chocolate, she continued. "Nothing, really. Well, I may have accused them of homophobia and they shot me down. I know they're not like that, but I was feeling under attack and I guess I just got defensive. As far as they're concerned, Emma's gender is the least of their concerns."

"Is her felony conviction the problem, by any chance?" The redhead asked. Regina didn't answer. Zelena knew it to be true and saw the sadness behind her friend's usually bright eyes. "Hey, at least she can get out in a year, thanks to you."

"I know but even then, are Daddy and Mom ever going to accept her? They hate her on principle. I don't see that changing any time soon, even after she's out."

"And once she's out, do you see the two of you being together?"

Regina bit her lip, the cut almost healed now but the new skin still starkly pink against her olive tone. It would be there for life now; a daily reminder of her trauma. "Yeah, I think so. I know it sounds stupid, Zee, but there's something between us. Something really … I don't know. I can't describe it."

"You remember that you'll be going to Yale at the end of next summer," Zelena pointed out. "You won't be in New York."

"I know," Regina nodded.

"You think she'll move to New Haven with you?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want her to?"

"I … maybe? I don't know. I want to be with her. If we were two normal teenagers then we'd be dating right now but as it is, she's locked up and I'm trying to persuade my parents she's not the monster they still think she is. And then once she's out, I don't want her to move just for me. We're still young. What's she going to do in New Haven?"

"Be your girlfriend?"

Regina blushed a little. "Well, yeah, I guess she could be that. But I don't want to dictate her life. What if she wants to move away; fresh start, you know? Or what if she wants to go to a different college and ends up in California or something?"

"Sweetie, do you think you're getting ahead of yourself a little?" Zelena asked kindly, patting Regina's fretting hands which were twitching restlessly on the table. "How about you little lovebirds concentrate on actually spending time together and getting to know each other before you put down a deposit on a brownstone in New Haven?"

"Do they have brownstones in New Haven?"

"Not the point and you know it," Zelena laughed as the bell went, signalling the end of their lunch break.

The two of them stood and tidied away their lunch items before heading, arm in arm, towards their next class.

"Hey," Zelena whispered as they sat down, "did I tell you how happy I am for you?"

"For what?"

"For finding your Prince Charming. Or perhaps I should say Princess Charming."

* * *

The routine of breakfast, classes, lunch, and more classes, quickly became normal for Emma. She was surprised how quickly she slipped into the rhythm of Storybrooke. It was worrying, perhaps. But there again, at least she was starting to feel a little more settled. The inquisitive nature of MM hadn't let up but somehow the media story of Regina's fabricated Stockholm Syndrome hadn't permeated the walls of the centre.

Her appointment with Ruby came around quicker than Emma had anticipated and she felt unprepared when she knocked on the counsellor's door at the appointed time.

"Hey, how are you getting on?" Ruby asked cheerfully as Emma entered her office.

"Good, I think," Emma replied, taking a seat.

"Classes going well?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And are you making friends?"

Emma shrugged. Could she call MM a friend? She was certainly friendly but Emma got the sense that she couldn't be trusted.

"Do you have any questions or problems you want to address before we move onto talking about the RJP?"

"RJP?"

"Restorative Justice Program. Sorry, I'm lazy and our legal system loves abbreviations."

"No problem. Yeah, I guess we can move onto talking about that."

"Ok, well, first, how about I give you an overview of what the program entails both from your perspective and that of the victims. It's important you understand the process for both sides before we begin it. Remember, the victims are under no obligation to participate in this scheme."

"Yes, but Regina will."

At that, Ruby hesitated. "Emma, I know there is one person you particularly want to speak to as a result of this program but, as I've said, she won't be the only one whom this is offered to. You can't pick and choose. If other victims want to come forwards, you'll need to meet them too. And these sessions aren't going to be an opportunity for you and Regina to just chat. In order for me to sign off and say that you have successfully completed the RJP, you're going to need to do with Regina what any convicted offender does with their victims. You'll apologise, you'll listen, you'll talk but it will be in the context of what happened that day. Understand?"

"Yes," Emma nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound like that. It's just … I want to see her."

The counsellor couldn't help but offer the youngster a sympathetic smile. "You miss her?"

Emma blushed slightly. "Is that crazy? We've only known each other a couple of weeks."

"No," Ruby replied. "I felt like that about my wife when we first met. Sometimes, you just know when a connection is real."

"You're married? To a woman?"

Ruby nodded. "Yeah, so I know what you're going through, Emma. My wife was the first and only woman I've been in a relationship with. I had unsuccessfully dated men up until that point and it took me a while to come to terms with what was between us. So, outside of the RJP, I'm here if you want to talk, ok?"

"Thanks," Emma replied. "But for now, can you tell me more about RJP?"

Ruby smiled and nodded. "Well, the RJP focuses not so much on the crime which has been committed but the impact that crime has had on the victims. This could be physical or emotional and we also discuss the way in which criminal events can impact a person's life in terms of their relationships as well as their self-confidence, their capacity to return to normal in terms of work or school and much more."

"Ok," Emma nodded. "And how does talking with the person who is responsible for fucking up their lives help victims."

"We don't use language like that here, Emma," Ruby said firmly.

"Sorry," Emma replied shortly. "But I still don't quite see how," she paused, "my victims are going to feel better after they've talked to me."

"Well, research has shown that this open form of communication between both parties can help repair the damage. On both sides, might I add. It is an opportunity for you to make amends and this is important, especially for people like you."

At that, Emma frowned. "What's that supposed to mean."

"It means you clearly have compassion for your victims and feel regret and guilt at what has happened. For perpetrators who feel no remorse, the process of RJP can be more challenging because they struggle to see the events from the other point of view. But for you, I don't think this will be a problem."

"No, I guess not," Emma agreed.

"And therefore, by meeting with your victims, repairing the damage and making amends, you should be able to begin forgiving yourself and focused on the future, rather than regretting the past."

"I'll always regret what happened that day," Emma said. "Are you saying I shouldn't?"

"No, those events will always be part of your life but at the moment I can tell the guilt is weighing on you and will be having a negative impact on your day to day life. But in the future, you will learn how to accept what happened, integrate it into your personal story, as it were, but also move forwards and learn how to be a productive, respected and respectful member of society. At least, that's what this program aims to do. But it's important that you recognise this is for both you and the victims. The idea is that by the end of the program, all parties have experienced some sort of healing."

Emma nodded slowly. "Yeah, ok, I think that makes sense."

"The RJP focuses on face-to-face meetings between victims and offenders with a facilitator or mediator present at all times. That person will either be me or someone who is equally trained in the role. You'll have time to prepare before the meeting, as will the other party. The meeting itself is a chance for you both to speak, to ask questions and to listen to the other person."

"They can ask me questions?"

"Yes, and they'll probably have some," Ruby nodded. "This is an opportunity for the victims to try and understand what happened that day and why you did what you did."

"What if I don't have the answers."

"Then tell them that," Ruby offered gently. "As long as you are honest, that's all anyone can ask of you."

* * *

Dark clouds had blown across the city that Friday afternoon. Regina watched the storm building outside the living room window where she lay on the couch, cell phone resting on her stomach. The air was heavy with the anticipation of rain. People all over New York would be cancelling their outdoor weekend plans. Autumn had well and truly arrived.

As the first fat droplets splattered onto the windows, Regina reached for the cashmere blanket draped across the couch and threw it over herself, snuggling deeper into the comfortable space. Where was Emma? she thought to herself as the pattering of raindrops became more frequent. Was she watching the storm? Did the blonde even have a window. Surely she did. There must be some law against keeping people in windowless rooms. But even with a window, she was sure Emma's surroundings were bleaker than the weather outside.

"What are you thinking about?"

The words and the accompanying poke to her thigh got her attention. Regina jumped when she realised she wasn't alone and turned to see her mother standing at the side of the couch.

"Huh?"

"I was calling your name. Dinner's ready in five minutes."

"Oh, thanks."

Cora cocked her head and regarded her daughter who had gone back to watching rain rivulets on the window, distorting the stormy sky outside.

"You're thinking about Emma, aren't you?"

Blushing, Regina turned back to her mother. "Yeah."

Patting Regina's thigh more firmly, Cora sat down once her daughter had moved her legs out the way. "Do you think about her a lot?"

Lip trapped between teeth, Regina nodded. "I mean, I still do my school work and stuff but … yeah, I can't help it."

"Regina," the older Mills started, placing her hand gently on Regina's exposed forearm, "your father and I don't -"

"Mom, please, leave me alone," Regina interrupted.

"Let me finish," Cora said calmly. "I wasn't going to tell you to forget about her and move on."

"Good, because I can't," the teenager said stubbornly.

"I know," Cora replied. "If my parents had told me to stop thinking about your father, I would have said the same thing. What I was going to say was that while your father and I don't understand whatever is between you and Emma, we're not going to stand in your way. As we said, you don't yet have our blessing but it's clear you two share something. Your father and I want what's best for you and we want you to be with someone who makes you happy. While we never expected that to be someone who is in prison, we know better than to try and stand in your way."

"Are you calling me stubborn?"

Cora grinned. "Let's just say determined."

Regina smiled. "And the fact that Emma is a she?"

"Is neither here nor there, you know that. It's more about her character and her morals of which we are concerned."

"Emma's morals are fine, as is her character."

"Well, that has yet to be proved to me and your father. But what has been proven is that you care for her. We just want you to be happy, sweetheart, and if Emma makes you happy, we'll try to understand. But you will need to be patient with us because as far as we're concerned, right now that woman does not deserve someone as special as you."

Regina reached out and placed her hand over her mother's which was still resting on her arm. "Thanks Mom. But Emma's special too. And she does deserve me. You'll see."

"I hope so, sweetie. I do hope so. Come on, dinner's ready."

Regina shuffled out from beneath the soft blanket and followed her mother, glancing once more out of the window at the hammering rain outside, sending a thought to Emma, wherever she was, whatever she was doing. I miss you.

* * *

Emma spent the next week reading anything and everything she could get her hands on about Restorative Justice. The library had a number of books and reports on the subject and Ruby had provided her with some printouts from the internet. While Emma had initially been eager to sign up if it meant seeing Regina, the prospect of meeting others whom she had harmed was far less appealing.

She knew the connection she and Regina had was powerful and she also know that connection was a large factor in why Regina had forgiven her already for what had happened. Even if sometimes Emma didn't feel like she deserved such forgiveness. But what about the others? They weren't going to look at Emma and see what Regina saw. They were going to see a convicted criminal. Even if Emma's contact with those hostages that day had been minimal, she had still been involved. Did she really have the strength to face them and listen to how her actions had affected her life?

Perhaps it was cowardly to be unsure. Ruby had told Emma to take her time and consider whether she could commit to the program. "It's not for everyone," the counsellor had said. Emma understood why. The idea of hearing the impact her terrible decisions had had on the lives of innocents made her gut clench.

Beyond those unknown victims whom she'd be meeting, she would also have to go through the process with Regina. Ruby had been clear about that. If she were to sign up for the program, the two of them would have to go through the motions too. It wasn't as if Regina's status as 'Emma's victim' permitted her to meet with the blonde under the guise of the RJP without participating. She would have to listen to Regina talk about herself as a victim, even if the brunette had tried to tell Emma she didn't feel like that. And then Emma would have to tell Regina what had been going through her head that day.

In fairness, Emma mused as she lay in bed one night, if they were going to try and be in a relationship, those were necessary conversations. But the idea of speaking so frankly with Regina in front of a third party, even Ruby, made her uncomfortable.

She went back and forth, deliberating, for a week before making her decision. When she finally knew what she wanted, what she was capable of doing, she made an appointment to meet with Ruby that Friday afternoon, eight days after their previous meeting.

"I'll do it," she said as soon as the door to the counsellor's office was closed. "I want to sign up for the Restorative Justice Program."

"Are you sure?" Ruby asked.

"One hundred per cent," Emma nodded as she sat down in the chair opposite the redhead. "For Regina and everyone else. You're right. I have to meet them. I have to apologise."

"And listen."

Emma swallowed. "Yes, and listen. Can … when … I mean, what's the first step?"

"The first step is finding out which of the people who were there that day would be interested in meeting you."

"Ok, and how do we do that?"

"Leave it with me and I'll contact our RJP partner who's based in Brooklyn and get started."

"So I just wait?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Until we have confirmation that you're eligible and that at least one of the victims wants to meet, there's nothing we can do our end. Focus on your studies and start making friends in here, ok?"

Emma nodded and got to her feet again. "Yeah, ok. Thanks Ruby."

"You're welcome. You've made the right decision here, Emma. This will be good for you, I can tell."

* * *

Cora waited nervously in the living room. Glancing at the clock didn't make the time go any faster. It was Monday evening. Henry was late home from work. Regina had already disappeared up to her room, grumbling about how much homework she had to complete. At last, she heard the familiar sound of the door opening followed by her husband's footsteps across the wooden floor of the hallway.

"Henry," she called out. The footsteps stopped and then a second later restarted as the man changed his direction. She knew he had been heading to the dining room as dinner was due to be served in a few minutes.

"Good evening, my love," he said as he entered the room, crossing at once to drop a delicate kiss to Cora's lips. "I'm sorry I'm late. How was your day?"

"Fine thanks. Yours?"

"Back to back meetings," Henry yawned as he sat down in his favourite armchair. "What's for dinner."

"Fish," Cora replied. "But I want to talk to you about something first."

The nervousness in her voice caught her husband's attention and he sat up a little straighter. "Is it Regina? Is she ok? What happened?"

"She's fine," Cora reassured. "But I do want to talk about her."

"What's wrong?"

"I got a call today from Storybrooke Juvenile Centre."

There was a pause. "Where Emma is?"

"Yes," Cora nodded. "Apparently she wants to do something call Restorative Justice where Emma meets with her victims and they talk about what happened and try to help both sides of the crime heal. There's a mediator involved, apparently."

"Emma wants to meet with Regina? Does Regina know?"

"Not yet. Regina wasn't home. I told them to call back on Wednesday afternoon when she's got no classes. But the woman on the phone said that as well as one-on-one meetings, they can also offer family mediations. I've told her we want to do it."

"What?" Henry gaped at his wife.

"I told her we wanted to meet Emma with Regina. I want to hear what she has to say, don't you?"

Henry hesitated. "I mean, I guess so. But you were less on board with all this than me last week. What's changed?"

"You've seen our daughter, Henry. You've seen the way she gazes off into space. It took me a while to realise it and accept it, but our little girl is in love. Although I don't think Regina knows that yet. We're not going to be able to stop them if they both want to be together. And I also trust Regina as a good judge of character. We need to give Emma a chance and if we can meet her, with Regina, perhaps that's possible."

"Give Emma a chance?"

Cora nodded. "Regina needs us to, Henry. Our daughter needs us to try."

* * *

A/N: Progress is slowly being made!


	28. The Preparation

A/N: For those wondering, the Restorative Justice program does exist. I didn't make it up (it was actually suggested to me as a storyline by a reader) and I hope I'm accurately reflecting how it works based on my Googling…

* * *

The room was silent, an air of anticipation as the trio waited. They had arrived early; nervous, unsure what to expect. And now the person they were due to meet was late. So they waited.

Henry pulled out his cell phone when it vibrated against his leg, indicating an email from the office, and switched it off. He didn't want any distractions. It was Friday afternoon; business could wait until Monday. Cora was examining her fingernails, freshly painted after her standing manicure appointment from that morning. Regina's left leg bobbed up and down, a physical representation of her nerves.

"Sweetheart," Henry said quietly, reaching over and placing his palm atop his daughter's jittery thigh.

"Sorry," Regina said, swinging her right leg over the top in an attempt to pin down the traitorous limb.

In fact, perhaps it wasn't nerves. At least, not about what was about to happen. It was more excitement. This was the first step. After today, she would be one step closer to seeing Emma again. It had been over a week since the phone call had come for Regina, asking about her willingness to participate in the Restorative Justice Program. She had said yes at once and arranged the meeting they were now due to have. Already Regina was frustrated at the system. How long would it take for her to see Emma again? How many hoops did they each have to jump through?

At last, the door opened and a tall man with a scruffy beard appeared. "Hi," he grinned as Henry and Cora got to their feet. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge was a nightmare. August Bailey," he added, holding out his hand to shake theirs, "I'm the senior case coordinator."

"Henry and Cora Mills," the father introduced. "And this is our daughter Regina."

The teenager had got to her feet too, her manners always impeccable, and smiled as she held out her hand for August to shake.

"Lovely to meet you, Regina," August smiled, his piercing blue eyes twinkling. "Please, take a seat and we'll get started." Once all four of them were settled, he continued. "So today is just an introductory meeting to provide you with some important information about the Restorative Justice Program, what it involves and what the future processes are. But remember, you are under no obligation to commit to anything today."

All three Mills nodded their understanding. Cora and Henry were both wondering whether the words they heard today would change their mind when it came to meeting with Emma. Regina, however, knew that there was nothing in the world which could stop her signing up to take part in the program. She had been shocked when her mother told her that she and her father wanted to be involved as well. At first, she had been resistant. She didn't want to talk to Emma in front of her parents. But when it had been explained to her that there would be two sessions; one for just her and Emma and one family one, she realised it might be a good idea. Perhaps this was an opportunity for her parents to get to know the real Emma. Perhaps it would help them accept and forgive her.

"So," August continued, "I believe we're looking at two separate programs here, right? Regina will be meeting with the offender, a Miss Emma Swan, and then you also want a family session, correct?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "Um, have you seen Emma?"

"Not yet," August replied, glancing at his notes. "I'll be meeting with Miss Swan next week. The first step is always to meet with your side of the crime."

"The victims?"

Regina winced at her mother's harsh choice of words but August nodded. "Indeed. And once I've spoken with you about the program and you've made your decision, then I'll speak with Emma and we'll begin the process."

"So, who goes first? Me or the family thing?"

"You, probably," August replied. "We tend to find it most effective to get an open dialogue between those most closely affected by the crime before bringing other people into the mix. Of course, as her parents, I have no doubt that you have also been deeply affected," August added, nodding at Cora and Henry.

"We have," Cora said tersely.

A sympathetic smile accompanied the next words. "Which is why we believe that offering you the opportunity to speak with Miss Swan is also beneficial. It should go a long way towards healing Regina as well as your family."

"I don't need to be healed," Regina snapped defensively.

Bushy eyebrows rose. Henry glanced at his wife. "You don't?" August asked. "May I ask why you are taking part in this program then?"

Regina bit her lip. She knew she shouldn't lie to August but she also got the feeling that telling him she and Emma were emotionally involved was a bad idea.

"I think we all feel that we could benefit from understanding more about the young lady who was responsible for those events," Cora said, jumping in to save her daughter after the pause stretched for several seconds. "Could you talk us through the process and give us some information about how these meetings usually are structured?"

August hesitated for a moment before turning away from Regina, upon whom his curious eyes had lingered, and smiled at Cora. "Of course. So the primary purpose is to provide a safe space in which the victim can tell the offender how the crime has affected them and the impact the events have had on their lives. You will then have an opportunity to ask any questions you may have. While Miss Swan is not obligated to answer, she is encouraged to engage in an honest dialogue with you. Either myself or Miss Swan's case officer will be with you both at all times. It's likely that we'll both be present for the family meeting which is very similar in layout."

"So Henry and I can tell Emma about how her actions impacted Regina?" Cora asked.

"I'd recommend you discuss how Regina's experiences impacted you and your family as a whole. Regina will be present herself so she can tell Miss Swan in her own words how the events have affected her. The family meeting should be about your individual perspective, really," August supplied.

"And what about Emma? What does she have to do?" Cora pressed.

"Well, the Restorative Justice Program is named such because its main aim, aside from repairing the damage to victims is to try and reduce the chance of Miss Swan becoming a repeat offender. We find that the best way to minimise recidivism rates is to address the factors which played into the original crime being committed in the first place. Miss Swan will speak about what happened in the lead up to that day to help her and us identify them."

"Excuses, you mean?" Henry interrupted.

"Reasons," August corrected. "We're not trying to justify anything here, Mr Mills. We're trying to understand it. By understanding what went wrong in Miss Swan's life and placing this knowledge alongside a face to face interaction with how those events affected and hurt others, we hope to deter her from any future involvement in criminal activities."

"Does it work?" Cora asked.

"Of course it works," Regina replied, even though the question wasn't directed at her. "Emma isn't going to do anything like that again."

Once more, August's curious gaze rested on the brunette. "The Restorative Justice Program has been proven to lower recidivism rates, yes. It's used around the world and we find that both offenders and victims benefit from this unique form of mediation. But … Regina, may I speak with you in private please?"

"Why?" Cora said quickly.

"Standard procedure," August said smoothly. "She will be the first to take part in this program and since she'll be in the room without you, we find it best to prepare victims who are of age without their parents if they are happy with this. Often they are more open with us without family members present. Is that ok?"

Regina glanced at her mother and father. "Yes, that's fine."

Henry opened his mouth to say something but Cora laid a hand on his arm and got to her feet. "We'll wait outside, dear," she said, smiling at her daughter.

The two Mills left the room quickly. August offered a reassuring nod as they passed, a silent promise that their beloved daughter was in safe hands. Once the door had clicked shut behind them, he turned back to look at Regina. He was suddenly struck by how young she was. He usually only did adult cases but his father's connection to the police department had meant he had been personally requested. His reputation was indeed excellent but he had limited experience working with youths. It was also why Emma's case officer would work alongside him; a Ruby Lucas he had yet had the pleasure of meeting.

"So, Regina," August said smiling at him. "It's been a month or so since the day of the attack. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Regina replied, crossing her leg and folding her arms.

August took in the defensive posture and continued. "And you are interested in this program, correct?"

"Clearly."

"May I ask why?"

"Does it matter?"

"Honesty does," August nodded. "I'm on your side, Regina. But in order for me to do my job and make sure that this program is not only beneficial for you but that you're prepared correctly, I need to know the truth. Is there something in particular you want to tell Miss Swan?"

Regina's cheeks flushed red and she dropped her gaze to the floor. August waited patiently as the brunette gathered her thoughts.

"I know you'll think I'm mad," she began, "but Emma and I like each other. We're sort of trying to date."

"Date?"

"Well, I mean, not exactly but we want to see each other and this is the only way that's possible while she's in a juvenile centre apparently."

August frowned. "So you're using this program just to gain access to her?"

Regina bit her lip. That didn't sound good. "No, I mean, I think this will be good for Emma too. I think it will help her with that whole recidivism thing you were talking about."

"And what about you? Will it help you heal?"

"I don't need to heal, Mr Bailey. I'm fine."

"You were held hostage."

"Yes, but I'm fine now. I know everyone thinks I'm crazy and I know it doesn't make sense but Emma is a good person and I really like her."

"You know," August said gently, "often victims find that they become dependent on their attacker to the point that they feel protected and -"

"I don't have Stockholm," Regina shot back. "I know what the papers wrote but it was bullshit. And stop calling me a victim. And stop calling Emma my attacker while you're at it."

The final statement was said with a snarl. August's eyebrows rose at the glare he received from the teenager. "Regina, you do realise that in order for me to approve your participation in this program, you're going to need to actually participate, right?"

Regina swallowed. Did that mean he was going to recommend that the Mills family didn't complete the process? Did that mean she couldn't see Emma?

"What does that mean?" she asked, nerves coiling in her stomach at the thought.

"It means that the RJP isn't a dating service. If you and Miss Swan have feelings for each other, fine. That's none of my business. What is my business is that when you meet in that room you are both going to need to complete certain elements of the program. For the purpose of this, you are a victim and she is an offender. You will need to speak with her about how you felt that day, truthfully, and she will need to listen and respond."

"I'm ok with that," Regina nodded. "I know we need to talk about how we met."

"Yes, it's not your typical Hollywood meet-cute, is it?" August grinned, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

Regina couldn't help but smile back at him. "No, I guess not."

"Look, even if you and Miss Swan are now something other than victim and offender, at some point that day, you were on two different sides of a violent crime, right? When you first met, for example, how did you feel?"

An involuntary shiver ran through Regina's body as she remembered how she had been paralysed by fear when Emma had first appeared. The fear hadn't dissipated until she was in her parents' arms on the airfield but other feelings had joined the fray. Stronger feelings, happier feelings, feelings she hadn't felt before. And even when she had been in danger and the terror had resurfaced, the sensation of Emma by her side had been more powerful.

"Yeah, I was scared," Regina admitted in a whisper.

"Emma scared you?" August switched to using Emma's first name for effect, wanting to hammer home the memory of the blonde and her role in the bank robbery.

Regina hesitated and then nodded, eyes now sparkling with tears. She knew hearing those words would crush Emma.

"Did Emma hurt you?"

"She didn't mean to," Regina defended.

"Did Emma hurt you?" August repeated.

Regina's bottom lip trembled as she remembered the way the rope Emma had tied cut into her wrists. She nodded again.

"Will you tell her this? Will you speak with her about that whole day?"

"I … yes," Regina agreed.

"Will you listen to Emma?"

"Of course," Regina replied.

"Even if she's telling you something you might not want to hear?" August added.

"Like what?"

"I don't know," August admitted. "But this program is about Emma as well as you. It's designed to help both sides. Even if you say you don't need to heal, perhaps speaking with Emma in this environment will make you realise there are some emotions from that day you haven't addressed. And it is also designed to help Emma; to help her understand what went wrong before that day so she can make sure it doesn't happen again."

"That's what I want," Regina said quickly. "I want to help Emma."

"You need to help yourself too, Regina. I get the feeling that you've not really given much thought to the trauma you went through that day. Before we meet with Miss Swan, you're going to need to do that. Are you willing to work with me on that?"

"If I do, can I meet Emma?"

"If I think it won't do more harm than good, yes," August nodded.

"Ok," Regina nodded. "Whatever you need me to do for Emma, I'll do it."

"No, Regina, this isn't for Emma. This is for you."

* * *

It took several moments for the words the counsellor had said to sink in. Emma blinked several times, trying to process what she had heard. Eventually, she found her voice.

"Her parents?" Emma gawped.

"Yes," Ruby nodded. "August just called me and said he met with all three of them. Apparently there's some more preparation work they need to do but Mr and Mrs Mills want to meet you too."

"Do I … have to?"

Ruby cocked her head. "Didn't we talk about this, Emma? You don't get to pick and choose. If Regina wants to meet you then her parents are entitled to a meeting too. And anyway, if you think you and Regina have any sort of future together, I'm pretty sure you're going to need to face them sooner or later."

"Can't it be later?"

Ruby laughed. "Well, it sounds like it's going to be a month or so before these meetings begin so you've got some time. I'll be there, remember? We'll prepare together."

The blonde slumped back in her chair and nodded. The counsellor was right. She did have to meet with the Mills and perhaps it was better to get it over and done with. She wasn't naïve enough to think that Regina's parents were going to welcome her with open arms but perhaps this program was the best place to take the first step towards … whatever sort of relationship they might have in the future."

"Fine," Emma nodded. "Has anyone else signed up?"

Ruby nodded and referred to her list. "Three of the people who were customers of the bank, one of the tellers, the receptionist and the family of the man who was shot."

"What? His family?"

Ruby nodded. "They were offered the opportunity too, Emma, I told you this."

"Yeah but I didn't think they'd want to meet me. I mean, I didn't shoot him. I wasn't even in the room."

"Perhaps they just want to sit face to face with someone who was involved in some way," Ruby shrugged. "Neither Lily nor Peter have signed up for the program."

"So I'm the only idiot who has to do this?"

Ruby sighed. "Firstly, Emma, you're not an idiot. Please don't use such language to describe yourself. And secondly, what you're doing is brave and commendable. You are offering these people an opportunity to heal and from experience I can tell you that you'll feel better afterwards. More than that though, this is part of an initiative to reduce recidivism rates. It will help you get your life back on track."

"Regina has helped me get my life back on track," Emma replied.

"And what if Regina isn't there for you one day?"

Emma's blood ran cold at the thought. What if Regina left her? What if Regina woke up one day and realised she could do a hell of a lot better than an orphaned street girl like Emma? What if she ended up alone again?

"I ... don't know."

"None of us do," Ruby offered kindly, a twinge of guilt having shot through her when she saw the pain her comment had caused Emma. "If my wife left me, I'd be devastated. But that's the risk you take when you put your heart in someone else's hands. My point is, Emma, you need to do some inner searching so that you can identify what led you to do what you did and therefore you will learn how to avoid those situations in the future when life gets tough."

"Don't make friends with liars," Emma grumbled. "I think I can manage that now Neal's dead."

"You can't pin all the responsibility on Neal," Ruby reminded her. "And before any of these meetings happen, I'm going to need you to see a grief counsellor."

"What? Why?"

"Because of Neal."

While the words were spoken gently, Emma bristled. "I'm not grieving for Neal. He betrayed me."

"He did, about an hour before he died. But you two had been friends for a year. Just because you were angry at him when he died, doesn't mean you can't still be sad and hurt that he's gone."

"But -"

"This is not a negotiation, Emma," Ruby said firmly. "I've been doing this a long time. I know when I'm right. You will need to meet with Archie, our specialist psychologist, before any of these meetings happen, with Regina or anyone else. Understand?"

Emma hesitated and then nodded. She couldn't argue. If she wanted to see Regina, she'd do anything, even if it meant addressing those painful emotions she'd been trying to ignore for over a month.

* * *

A/N: I know everyone wants Emma and Regina together again but I can't just make it happen yet! Next chapter will be both girls in their respective sessions and then I hope to get them breathing the same air in Chapter 30 … The next chapter will discuss Emma's sexual relationship with Neal. It's not non-consensual but it isn't a loving relationship either, just a warning.


	29. The Therapy

AN: Writing is a wonderful distraction from real life which can really be a bitch sometimes. Thank you, writing.

* * *

The next scheduled appointment with August came around too quickly and not fast enough all at once, as far as Regina was concerned. While she was eager to see Emma again, she knew the senior case coordinator was going to force her to relive that day before a meeting was possible. It wasn't that Regina was avoiding remembering. Many of her memories with Emma stemmed from that day; she often thought of them. But there were other aspects which she had tried to block from her memory.

"Regina, come on in," August said, sticking his head around the edge of his office door in the Brooklyn Restorative Justice Centre and smiling at the brunette who was sat awkwardly in the small, dingy waiting room.

Getting to her feet, she walked across the scuffed lino floor and entered, closing the door behind her in the face of the bodyguard who had been sat several seats away from her. There was no way he was coming in. August gestured for her to take a seat before taking his own opposite her. She crossed her legs and sat up straight. August smiled at her.

"It's ok, Regina, you can relax."

"I am relaxed," Regina lied.

August merely hummed a noncommittal note of disbelief. "Right, well, in that case, are you ready to jump right in?"

"Sure."

There was another pause. One-word answers weren't uncommon. People were often resistant to reliving traumatic events, but August got the feeling Regina may be more stubborn than some of his other clients.

"So, can you begin by telling me what you remember about the day the bank was robbed?"

"I had gone to see Mr Gold," Regina replied. "I was in his office when it happened. They came in, tied us both up and then robbed the bank. Once they were finished, they took me with them to the airfield, so the police wouldn't shoot them. Then the police did shoot Neal and it was over."

"In a nutshell," August mused. "Very succinct."

"Did you want me to use more adjectives?" Regina sneered.

August leaned back in his chair and observed the brunette. "Regina, do you remember what I said about this meeting? Before I can approve any mediation sessions between you and Miss Swan, you're going to have to demonstrate you have addressed what happened that day. It is an important part of the healing process, for both of you."

The teen wrinkled her nose. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just hard."

"And that's ok," August assured her. "We have all the time in the world. We'll take it as slowly as you need but we are going to have to address some of the difficult things, ok?" Regina nodded her understanding at that. "Right, so, can you tell me what happened when you first saw one of the attackers?"

"I was scared," Regina admitted. "They just burst in, wearing all black and a ski mask. She had a gun."

"She?"

"It was Emma," Regina whispered. "She took her mask off later."

"So your first contact with the offenders was with Emma?"

Regina nodded. "Yeah, she was sent by Neal to tie up Mr Gold. They didn't know about me. The press reported that I was deliberately taken hostage, but I wasn't part of the plan. So when Emma got to the office, she used some twine which she'd had threaded into her jeans to tie my hands together because she didn't have another zip tie."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Scared," Regina replied simply.

"Anything else?"

Regina shrugged and looked around the room, avoiding eye contact. Her mind flashed back to that moment; the moment when Emma had tied her up and then the featherlight touch on her wrist before the blonde had backed away.

"I didn't know what they wanted with me," Regina admitted. "When Emma tied me up, she … she stroked my wrist, where my tattoo is. It was weirdly tender. I didn't know who she was then, I didn't know she was a good person. I was scared she was going to hurt me … sexually."

"Did you know your attacker was a woman at that point?"

Regina nodded. "I could tell from the shape of her body and her voice. And some of her hair was stuck out the bottom of the ski mask."

"And you were worried she was going to assault you sexually?"

"In that moment, yes. I don't know why. Maybe I watch too much SVU or something. And I don't know if it was necessarily that I thought Emma was going to assault me but maybe someone else she was with."

"Did you ever ask Emma why she touched you with, as you said, tenderness?"

Regina shook her head. "No, we've not really talked much about that day."

"Is it something you still think about?"

Unbidden, Regina glanced down at her wrists, rubbing over the tiny tattoo where Emma had touched her. The skin tingled as if reliving the memory. "Yes, I do. I try not to think about how scared I was and how I was crying and I focus more on that touch in hindsight. I mean, knowing now that Emma and I share this connection, I wonder whether that touch was the first example of it. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," August nodded. "It makes complete sense. Do you think you could talk about that moment with Emma?"

"I'm not sure she'd even remember it," Regina shrugged. "For some reason I think it was more significant for me than her."

"Well, perhaps you could ask her. Would you feel comfortable asking Emma about that? Would you be able to tell Emma how that touch made you feel?"

Without warning, tears sprang into Regina's eyes. "She'll be crushed," the brunette said as they began to fall. "Emma will be devastated to know how scared I was by her."

"It's important you're honest with her, remember?" August said kindly, handing Regina a box of tissues as he spoke.

"Even if I hurt her? I don't want her to feel more guilt than she already does."

August could well and truly consider himself in uncharted territory after working for the Restorative Justice Program for fifteen years. Never had he sat with a victim who felt such compassion for the offender. No aspect of his training prepared himself for the dynamic between Regina and Emma, so he just had to go on his gut.

"Regina, if you and Emma have even a chance at a future together, you're going to need to talk these things through. I have no doubt that it will be difficult for both of you but not vocalising these issues will not solve the problem. If you are able to be honest with each other and communicate your feelings, then you'll be in the best position to attempt to be in a relationship."

"You think?"

"It's not going to be easy," August said quickly, not wanting to give the teen false hope, "but no relationship can survive on a foundation of lies. If Emma shares this connection with you then I agree that hearing how you felt will be emotionally difficult for her. But this mediation meeting offers you both a safe space to address these issues and reconcile. I believe that is an important first step."

* * *

The corridor was busy with teenagers passing backwards and forwards between their classes. Emma kept her eyes glued to the floor, but she knew they were looking at her curiously and whispering their theories about why she was waiting outside that specific door. The fact that the juvenile centre had a psychologist who came once a week to specialise in grief sessions was common knowledge. And depressing, Emma mused. Children shouldn't have to deal with grief on the scale they evidently did at Storybrooke.

Eventually the corridor emptied as the next afternoon session started. Still Emma stood, waiting. Ruby had escorted her there but had had to rush back to her own office to meet with another teen. "Archie is great," she had assured Emma before turning on her heel, her long red hair flying through the air as she hurried away.

"Emma?"

The blonde looked up to see a smiling bespectacled man sticking his head around the door frame. She nodded and followed him as he beckoned her inside.

"I'm Archie," he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. "Take a seat."

She did so, looking around the office. It was almost identical in layout to Ruby's but there was a monochromatic poster on the wall with a motivational quote which made her roll her eyes. Did anyone fall for that sap?

"So, how are you doing here? It's been over a month since you arrived, correct?"

"Yes," Emma nodded. "Um, it's ok, I guess."

"Making friends?"

Emma shrugged. She still wasn't sure if she would call MM a friend. The woman talked at her rather than with her and Emma was yet to tell her anything personal. Something made her hold back.

"So, Ruby referred you to me, correct?"

"Yeah, she thinks I need to deal with some shit about Neal."

Archie nodded solemnly. "Yes, Neal Gold is the young man who was killed during the bank robbery. Grief comes in many forms and the circumstances of the death always affect those who are left behind, particularly when it was a violent death."

"Yeah, well, he deserved it," Emma shot back, folding her arms and slouching down in her chair.

"He deserved it?"

"Yep," Emma nodded in defiance.

"Why?"

"For what he did."

"To you?" Archie had already met with Ruby and been extensively briefed on Emma's case. He had also familiarised himself with all the statements and police evidence. But this session wasn't about facts; it was about emotions.

"To all of us. He lied to us," Emma spat.

"In what way?"

Emma hesitated before exploding. "He lied about everything. What he said about the bank, why we were robbing it. We thought it was just money, but he wanted to get revenge on his father. Fuck, I'd give anything in the world to even have a father I wanted to take revenge on. For months he'd be lying to me; telling me he knew how I felt to not have a family. Telling me he knew what it was like to be abandoned. But all along his family were right here in the city and he was the one who left them. He walked away from parents who loved him. Why? Why would he do that? And then he found a load of vulnerable kids who really don't have a family and used us to exact his revenge. He deserves to be dead. I'm not sorry he's dead."

Throughout Emma's tirade, Archie listened to the words while reading the blonde's facial expressions. The mask which she had worn at the start of the session slipped and the anger and hurt and pain and, ultimately, grief began to show.

"I can understand you are hurt about the lies. Can you talk about -"

"And he hurt other people. He hurt Regina and he scared everyone in the bank and fucked up their lives. It's his fault Lily shot that man. It's his fault we were there and we're all in prison now. If it weren't for him, I'd still be free."

It was true, Emma realised. Without Neal, she'd still be out on the streets, sleeping in dark corners every night, huddling under blankets as the New York winter brought a bite to the blackness as autumn faded away. A pitiful existence, but a free one.

"You blame Neal for everything that happened that day?"

"Of course."

"What about your role in those events?" Archie challenged.

Emma faltered. "Well, yeah, fine, I was there too. But it was his idea. He got the guns. He told us what to do. It was his plan."

"That you followed through on."

The blonde gave a non-committal shrug. "I guess."

"Why?"

At that, Emma frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you do what Neal asked? It wasn't like he was asking you to buy a carton of milk at the grocery store on your way home from work. He asked you to help him rob a bank, to commit a crime. You agreed; I'm interested as to why."

It took Emma a long time to answer. Archie waited patiently, knowing it was important for Emma to really think about the question. He assumed it wasn't something she had considered before, not since her opinion of the dead man did a one eighty in the bank that afternoon.

"I trusted him," she said eventually, her voice much smaller and calmer than before. "I thought he was my friend."

There was the breakthrough Ruby had told Archie to expect. The counsellor had expressed her concerns at the detachment Emma displayed towards Neal's death, despite pre-existing relationship they must have shared.

"How long had you known Neal for before the bank robbery?"

"About a year, I think," Emma said, fingers now poking at a hole in the upholstery on the arm of the chair, stuffing blossoming outwards. "I dunno. It's not like I had a calendar or anything. We met last summer."

"How did you meet?"

"In the park one day. He started talking to me and we kinda hit it off. He was the first person who seemed genuinely nice. Other than him it was drunk old men asking how much I charged for a blowie." Emma made a face at the memory, athough she'd never been so desperate as to sell her body when she was on the streets. Archie felt his heart twinge in sympathy at the casual statement, however. The girl was barely more than a child. "We started hanging out. Being homeless sucks but it's better if you have someone by your side, I guess. Neal and I were a team and looked out for each other. That's why I trusted him. That's why I said I'd do it when he told me about his plan. I just didn't know it was all a lie."

"Do you know that?" Archie asked. "Do you know everything he said to you was a lie?"

"It must have been. He never cared for me. He just needed me for his plans. He made me think he cared and then used me for his own revenge. It was all lies."

"Did you care for him?"

Emma shrugged. "I guess, a bit."

"Then how do you know he didn't care for you too? Even if he betrayed you the last day of your friendship, how do you know the rest of the time you spent together didn't include genuine affection."

At that, Emma scoffed. "Yeah, fine, I guess he was 'affectionate'." She added the air quotes.

Decades of experience and years of working in the juvenile centre allowed Archie to join the dots quickly. "You two were intimate." It wasn't a question, so Emma didn't answer. "Did he force you, Emma?"

"No, I mean, not really. It wasn't like he pinned me down. It wasn't rape. But …" She trailed off. It hadn't been rape; she never said no. It was more of a payment, her way of saying thank you to Neal late at night for keeping her safe. She didn't even know how it had started but it had certainly become routine by the end. She learned what to do to make him finish quicker though, shortening the ordeal.

"Were you two safe?"

The question shocked her. Unbidden, an image of Regina flashed into her mind. Would her carelessness with Neal put Regina's sexual health in danger if and when the two of them were ever, finally together?

"Um, not always." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She knew unprotected sex was foolish. Hell, the appointment she had had at the family planning clinic at the start of summer illustrated that she knew what could happen. But it wasn't as if they could afford condoms. They'd only used them the last few months because Emma had been given a bag full of them after the abortion.

"Have you had a medical check up since you arrived?"

"A basic one, yeah," Emma nodded. "Nothing like … that."

"You should get one," Archie replied. "For your own peace of mind."

Emma nodded but said nothing. What if she had some terrible, incurable disease and she could never be with Regina? And then she scoffed, out loud, when she remembered how far ahead in time she was jumping. Would Regina even want to have sex? The woman was a virgin, Emma reminded herself. She'd saved herself for the right person. Surely that person wasn't Emma. The self doubt she had lived with all her life was never far away.

"So, you and Neal were friends and had an intimate relationship," Archie summarised. "Despite the bad note on which your friendship ended, it's normal for you to be saddened by his death."

"I told you, he deserved it," Emma replied, pushing thoughts of Regina from her mind.

"He deserved to die for lying to you?"

Emma pouted. "Yeah, why not?"

"Seems a little extreme," Archie pointed out.

"Well, doesn't he deserve to die for what happened in the bank that day? An innocent man died because of his plan and he hurt his father and Regina. He scarred Regina for life."

Ignoring the frequent mention of Regina, Archie continued. "So, if we take 'an eye for an eye' as law, would you say he got what he deserved?"

"Pretty much," Emma nodded.

"Ok," Archie accepted. "What Neal did that day was unforgivable. But what about the year which led up to it? Are there any positive memories you have of him?"

Emma hesitated before reluctantly searching her mind. She knew without a good report from Archie, she wasn't going to be allowed to participate in the RJP and that meant not seeing Regina.

"Um, he made friends with a guy who worked at a movie theatre and used to get us in for free to watch stuff," Emma remembered. "And he had a knack for finding good food in dumpsters." Even as she spoke, her cheeks coloured with embarrassment at the confession that she used to eat food others considered garbage. "And one evening, he almost broke a man's nose when he came back to where we were sleeping to find him trying to -"

She stopped abruptly. August didn't need her to continue.

"I know what Neal did was wrong," Archie said. "And I am sure there are many who share your opinion that the world is a better place without him in it. But I think you also lost a friend that day, Emma. Regardless of how bitterly you feel about him now, a part of you will be mourning him. He was a large part of your life and now he's absent. Do you miss him?"

It was a question she hadn't been expecting and one she wasn't prepared for. Without warning, tears began to roll down her cheeks. Archie handed her a box of tissues and waited as Emma quietly, for the first time in two months, cried for the loss of her friend.

* * *

A/N: I know Neal is a dick but we only saw him for one day – I had to make him someone that Emma would have gone into a bank side by side with. The good news is the separate conversations are over now and our two ladies can be in the same room again – yay!


	30. The Tattoo

A/N: Finally! I'm sorry there's been so many chapters without our two ladies being in the same room. The reviews have been a mix of praising detailed character development and ever-increasing frustration. I hope both sides will be satisfied by today's instalment.

* * *

The contents of her wardrobe were scattered across every inch of her bedroom floor, and still Regina had found nothing suitable to wear. Gritting her teeth, she started to sort through the previously discarded outfits. She was running out of time. Glancing out of the window, she saw the rain still lashing down and grimaced. That wasn't helpful. Knowing she was going to be wearing her long black leather coat helped a little, however. Black; she had a colour theme. Selecting a V-neck black silk shirt from the floor, she cast around for something to pair with it. Her navy blue skirt jumped out at her.

"You'll have to do," she muttered to the article of clothing as she picked it up and got dressed. Once done, she added a couple of delicate silver bracelets to her wrists. She didn't want to wear anything too obviously expensive although already she was wearing close to a thousand dollars in total.

Glancing at her phone, she saw she had just two minutes before the family driver was due. Cursing, she sat on the edge of her bed and began to tug on her boots, zipping them up to just over her knee.

"Regina!" her mother's voice called. "Fitzgerald is ready to leave. Are you?"

"Almost," Regina hollered back, jumping up from the bed and fluffing her hands through her hair while checking her makeup in the mirror. Satisfied at last with her appearance, she left her room in the state it was, closing the door so no one would know, and headed downstairs.

She was unsurprised to see both her parents at the foot of those stairs, waiting to see her off to the meeting. Cora's eyes raked over her outfit, a hint of disapproval on her face.

"What?" Regina asked defiantly as she reached the bottom of the sweeping staircase.

"I said nothing, dear," Cora replied. "It's raining; do you have a coat?"

"Yes," Regina clipped, reaching into the closet by the front door and pulling her long black jacket from the peg. "See?" She shrugged it on and untucked her hair from beneath the collar.

"Well, good luck," her father said. "I hope it goes well."

"Yes, me too," Cora nodded.

"Me three," Regina added before grabbing her purse and heading out of the grand entrance doorway and hurrying down the pathway to where the chauffeur was waiting.

* * *

Bitten fingernails drummed a senseless rhythm onto the table top. An agitated knee jiggled beneath the table. Green eyes darted towards the door every few seconds. Ruby said nothing. She knew there were no words which would calm Emma's nerves.

She had wondered whether this was the right meeting to have first. Perhaps another victim would have better wetted the blonde's feet, but there had been no one else who was yet ready to meet with the teen. Ruby found she was nervous for Emma. Or perhaps she was nervous for herself. She had never mediated a session before when the victim and the offender had shared a romantic connection which transpired as a result of the crime. She wasn't sure what to expect.

When the door opened, therefore, both Emma and Ruby jumped. August's head appeared around the edge of the frame. "Hi Emma, are you ready?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Yes," Emma breathed out.

August opened the door wider and stepped out of the way. The blonde's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight before her. It had been well over a month since she had last seen the brunette; too long, she determined.

"Regina," Emma said, getting to her feet. "Hi."

The older girl didn't know where the confidence came from but the nerves she had been feeling in the ride over to the juvenile centre faded away as soon as she crossed the threshold. Before either August or Ruby could react, she rushed forwards, throwing her arms around Emma and hugging her tightly. After a moment of feeling paralysed by the action, Emma's arms encircled the shorter woman's frame and she squeezed her tightly, face buried in Regina's silky hair which had grown longer in their time apart.

Ruby and August exchanged glances, both professionals wondering whether they should separate the girls. No session either of them had ever been a part of had begun with a hug. Ended, once or twice, but never started. However, they both knew the nature of the girls' relationship and it was evident neither wished the other physical harm. So they remained silent and took their respective seats on either side of the table and waited.

The hug went on a long time, neither woman wanting to end the contact. But eventually Regina loosened her grip and pulled back.

"Hi," she offered, suddenly shy as she looked up into Emma's tear stained face.

"Hi," Emma smiled, reaching out to wipe away the smudges of mascara from beneath Regina's eyes as she took in the familiar features once more.

"Right," Ruby said softly, but nevertheless making both girls jump, "are you ready to start?"

Blushing, the adults received two identical nods from the teens who took their seats next to their respective moderators. It had been decided between August and Ruby that since neither of them had handled a case of this nature before, two heads were better than one. With Emma and Regina's consent, the party of four for the first mediation session as part of the Restorative Justice Program was agreed upon.

"Some introductions, I suppose," August smiled. "Ruby Lucas, this is Regina Mills. Regina, this is Ruby, Emma's counsellor here at Storybrooke."

"Hi," Ruby said with an encouraging smile. "It's great to meet you. Emma's told me a lot about you." Beside her, the tips of the blonde's ears pinked. Had she really talked about Regina a lot to the redhead. Yes, she surmised immediately. Yes she had.

"Hello," Regina replied, wondering what sort of first impression she could possibly have made on the older woman.

"So, you both know why you're here," August said once they had all settled in their seats. "And you've both worked hard to get to a place where myself and Ruby are happy with your personal development. Now the next stage, for both of you, is to begin to have what we like to call an open conversation. This is your session and while Ruby and I are here to mediate, we'd like the conversation to be directed by the two of you, where possible. We always start the first session with the Regina's side of the table, typically talking about the impact the experience has had on her life."

Both Regina and Emma nodded their heads in understanding. All of this had been explained to them multiple times. Now they just wanted to get started.

"Do you have any questions before we begin?" Ruby asked, glancing from Emma to Regina and noting as she did so that the two girls weren't looking at each other, suddenly overcome with shyness or anticipation or perhaps both.

After a brief pause in which no question was put forwards, August continued. "Alright, Regina, you can start. Why don't you tell Emma a little bit about how you felt that day? How did you feel when you first realised what was happening?"

Emma's heart began to pound. What was she about to hear? Whatever it was, she didn't think she was going to like it. Of course, Regina would be traumatised by the bank robbery, affected emotionally in ways she hadn't even started to think about because she was too selfish and wrapped up in her own feelings for the brunette.

"At first I was just scared," Regina began eventually. Emma's eyes were glued to her knees. She couldn't bear to see Regina's face. "Mr Gold and I had heard a noise, so he called the receptionist and then you appeared after about a minute. I … it was scary."

"I'm sorry," Emma blurted out, unable to hold back after she'd heard Regina's voice tremble. "I'm sorry," she repeated, now looking directly into those expressive brown orbs, already glittering with pain. "I never meant to scare you."

"Emma," August said softly, "let Regina continue a little and then you'll have the opportunity to respond."

The blonde drew her bottom lip between her teeth and began to chew as she sat back in her chair and nodded her agreement. This time, however, her gaze didn't shift from Regina's face. After taking a sip of the glass of water before her, Regina continued.

"I screamed when I saw you but then I sort of froze up. I think the sight of the gun was the scariest bit. I'd never seen a gun before. And you seemed so … determined. I think I knew you were following orders even then; that you were not the leader of the event. It never crossed my mind then to try and defy you and I did exactly what you told me. It was only when you started tying me up that I think the situation really hit me. That's when I started crying and then -"

The brunette trailed off, her eyes now cast down, away from Emma's intense gaze. August hesitated to see if Regina would continue without prompting. When it became apparent that she wouldn't, he spoke quietly.

"Regina, take your time, ok? Just tell Emma, in your own words, how you felt."

There was a shaky nod but nothing more. Emma felt concern well up inside her, bubbling and churning, the influence of which made her want to run around to the far side of the table and gather the woman into her arms. But she didn't. She waited, knowing that Regina needed time to tell her something important.

Regina's hands, which had been clasped in her lap, shifted to rest on the table. She had discarded her jacket when she sat down, so her arms were bare. Emma tried not to think about how that smooth skin might feel. The fingers of Regina's left hand reached out and stroked the ink beneath the surface of her right wrist.

"Remember this?" Regina asked, drawing Emma's attention to the tiny tattoo of the crown.

"Um, yeah," Emma nodded. Her first thought upon seeing it, aside from the beauty of the linework, was its pretentious nature.

"Regina means queen. Daddy calls me princess. I got this on my eighteenth birthday."

"It's pretty," Emma offered.

"You touched it," Regina said, eyes snapping up to meet Emma's at last. "When you tied me up, you touched my wrist right here. But it wasn't an accident. You sort of stroked it. Do you remember?"

"Kind of. I think you flinched."

Regina took a deep breath before continuing. "That was one of the scariest moments for me. It felt like more of a violation than being tied up. Or maybe I was worried that it was a foretelling of something. I mean, people behind a bank robbery are probably after money but for a moment I thought you weren't just going to leave us alone and take the cash. I thought …"

There was no need for Regina to say anything more. Her fears were evident. Emma's heart felt heavy with them, with the knowledge that she caused them.

"Regina," Emma said, glancing at August and receiving a nod that she was ok to answer. "I would never, ever have done anything … like that."

"I know that," Regina said, reaching out across the table towards Emma. The blonde's hands met her at once, needing the contact. "I know you would never do anything I didn't want. But I know that now, now I know you. When it happened, I didn't know you. All I knew was that you were a masked woman with a gun. I had no way of knowing what sort of person you were and then when you stroked my skin, I guess I jumped to the worst case scenario."

Emma's fingers gripped Regina's, ignoring the tears which were spilling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Regina," Emma sobbed. "I'm so sorry you ever felt like that at any time in your life, let alone that I was the cause of it."

The brunette offered a watery smile. "Thank you for apologising. I'm ok, really. It was a horrible moment but now I know you, it makes that memory easier. August wanted me to tell you anyway. He said it was important for you to understand how all of that day affected me in the moment as well as months down the line."

"Yes, I'm glad you told me," Emma said fervently. "I mean, I hate that it happened. I hate everything that happened that day but the fact that I did something which scared you in such a way is … embarrassing."

"Embarrassing how?" Ruby asked, curious at the blonde's choice of words.

Emma glanced at her counsellor and shrugged. "I dunno. I mean, no one wants to be thought of as some sort of sexual predator, right?"

"True," Ruby agreed, not wanting to push Emma further. There was a pause, the conversation having reached a natural break and no one sure where to direct it next.

"I don't want Regina to think of me that way," Emma blurted out. August and Regina exchanged a look but said nothing.

"What do you mean?" Regina asked when the blonde didn't elaborate.

Emma looked from Regina to August to Ruby. "You guys aren't going to leave us to talk in private, are you?"

"No," Ruby said. "But everything which is said in here is confidential. Nothing will be discussed in any other meetings nor with Regina's parents, in case that is a concern."

Well, that's something, Emma mused. Turning back to Regina, she tried to block out the two adults sat beside either one of them. She stroked her thumb back and forth over Regina's hand a few times, trying to work out how to phrase what she wanted to say.

"I know whatever's between us is still new," she started. "And I know we've not talked much about the future or anything."

"We've not had much of a chance to," Regina pointed out. "But that doesn't mean I'm not excited about it."

Emma couldn't help but grin. "Yeah me too. I think about it a lot."

"Me too," Regina smiled.

"I mean, there's not much else to do in this place. And you're definitely someone I like to think about. Really like to think about."

"Right back at you," Regina said, fingers squeezing lightly. "But what does this have to do with -"

"Sex," Emma blurted out. "Sex. With you. Or not." Her face turned scarlet. "I mean, I know you've not … I mean, you mentioned that … I just guessed that -"

"That I'm a virgin," Regina replied quite calmly.

"Um yeah," Emma nodded.

Ruby and August remained silent. Clearly more needed to be said.

"I've been waiting for the right person," Regina continued. "I want my first time to be special."

"I know," Emma said quietly. "And I think that's amazing. I know we've not talked about it and we don't have to talk about it but I can't deny that I've been thinking about that. I mean, God, Regina, look at you. Who wouldn't think about it?" Still, Regina said nothing. "But I know that you want to feel safe and loved and be with someone you trust and I completely respect that. So to hear that you were once scared by me, sexually, that kills me, Regina. And it's embarrassing because I thought that … I mean, I don't want to presume but … I thought maybe one day … but I guess now I've blown it."

Green eyes sparkled with tears again. She pulled one of her hands free from the tangle of fingers and wiped the streaks from her face. Regina was crying too, black smudges beneath her eyes sliding lower.

"Emma, I'm not scared of you now," Regina tried to reassure.

"I know but you were. It's a memory. You have a bad memory of me in that context. I … I know how that can affect someone, how it can affect a relationship. I don't want that for us. How can we possibly move past this?"

"I'm already past it, Emma," Regina said, waggling her fingers and asking for Emma's hand once more. She received it instantly, the blonde's fingers damp with tears. "I'm past it, Emma. I do trust you. I do feel safe with you. Hell, I felt safe with you about half an hour later that very day. On the scariest day of my life, you kept me safe. I trust you more than I probably should given how long we've known each other and how we met. But just because it doesn't make sense, that's not to say it isn't true. And I know there are a few hurdles between us and sex but, well, I've been thinking about it too."

"You have?" Emma asked, almost in disbelief.

"I have," Regina nodded, blushing a little when she realised what she was saying and the fact that two relative strangers were privy to the conversation.

The two women grinned dopily at one another until August cleared his throat quietly. "Um, we're coming to the end of this meeting, ladies. I'm afraid we'll have to continue next time."

"There's a next time?" Regina asked. "I mean, how does this work?"

"Well, Ruby and I will have a discussion in due course but we can schedule as many of these meetings as we believe are needed between the two of you. Frankly, while today has been very useful, we're only a few minutes into the first time you guys met. There's definitely justification for many more meetings."

"So we can see each other again?" Emma grinned.

"Yes," Ruby nodded. "But don't get any ideas about dragging this out for the next nine months."

Both Regina and Emma laughed. "Noted," Regina nodded. "And thank you. I get the feeling you're giving us quite a bit of latitude here."

"Well, our job is to get an open honest dialogue flowing between you based on subjects which you identify as important to you. I think you two both managed that, even though neither of us have ever sat through a conversation quite like this before," Ruby explained.

"That's because you've not met us before," Regina grinned. "I suspect there'll be a few more firsts for you both. But thank you, we both appreciate that you're actually supporting this. I know it seems mad. The press reported me as suffering from all sorts of mental health problems, even, but I hope you can see now that we're not crazy."

"I get it," Ruby said sincerely. "And I can't speak for August but I'm not going to stand in your way."

"Me neither," August piped up. "We might not quite understand but I think both of us can see that you have something special."

Emma and Regina grinned at one another. "Yeah, I think we do," Emma replied.

The four of them got to their feet. Regina shrugged on the coat which she had laid on the back of the chair before making her way towards the door with August beside her. A few feet before it, however, she stopped. "Can we say goodbye?"

August glanced over at Ruby before nodded mutual their permission to the brunette. Regina had barely turned around when she found herself engulfed in Emma's arms once more. The blonde hugged her tightly, relishing in being allowed to actually touch the older teen.

"Thank you for today," Emma whispered through Regina's thick hair near her ear. "It wasn't easy but I'm glad we talked."

"Me too," Regina murmured back. "I'm so glad I got to see you. I just wish I didn't have to walk away and leave you here."

Emma pulled back and reached up to brush some of Regina's hair from her forehead. "We'll get through this," she promised.

"I know we will." Regina didn't quite understand what was happening between she and Emma but she was aware that, despite all the obstacles, their relationship had a future. One which, perhaps, was outside the control of either of them. It was almost as if fate or destiny was pushing them together. Whatever happened, however the rest of the year played out, Emma and Regina would be together.

"I miss you," Emma said, hand now cupping Regina's jaw.

"I miss you too," Regina said. "But at least we have a few more memories to keep us going until we meet again now."

"I can't wait," Emma replied before leaning down and kissing Regina tenderly.

She didn't care if her counsellor and the case worker were watching. There was nothing they could say which could have stopped her kissing the brunette in that moment. Regina's hands wrapped themselves around the back of her neck, pulling her even closer. The blonde's stomach flipped as she felt Regina's tongue tease her lips. But just as she parted them, Ruby tapped her on the shoulder.

"Enough," the counsellor said, a hint of reluctance in her tone, as if she had ended the kiss because she knew she needed to but felt bad for Emma as a result.

With great reluctance, Emma nodded and stepped back, Regina's hands sliding from around her neck and falling, lacklustre, to her side.

"I'll see you soon," Regina promised before turning and following August from the room.

* * *

A/N: we're getting there! I will be adding in some time jumps now because I like to wrap my stories up in about 40 chapters and, well, we all know that every reader is pretty much waiting for the smut at this point …


	31. The Friends

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. My week got crazy!

* * *

"How'd it go?" MM asked as Emma walked back into their bunk.

The short-haired brunette received no answer however and the blonde walked past her with a dumbstruck look on her face, kicking her shoes carelessly under the bed before climbing up to the top bunk and lying down on her back. Curious, MM put down the magazine she had been thumbing through and stood up, leaning her arms on the rung of the bunk. Still, there was no reaction to her presence. After a few more seconds, she reached through and poked Emma's bicep.

"Oh, hi," the blonde said, jumping slightly when she realised her roommate was staring intently at her. "Sorry."

"What happened?" MM asked. "You're all … spacey."

"We kissed."

MM's jaw dropped open. "What?"

"What?" Emma repeated, eyes blown wide as she realised what she had said. "Um, no, I mean," she scrambled to sit up, tucking her hair behind her ears as she turned to her roommate, "no, I didn't mean that."

"You kissed someone in the Restorative Justice Program?"

"No, no," Emma said hastily. "I … missed. Yeah, I missed someone in the program. We missed the appointment. Well, she missed it. I was here, obviously."

Eyebrows knotted in confusion. "Why would you kiss someone who was in the bank that day?"

Emma sighed and flopped back down on her bed. Clearly her cell buddy wasn't buying her pitiful cover story. Emma didn't blame MM for that; it was a terrible excuse. "Fine, yeah, ok."

"Why?" MM asked again.

Rolling onto her side, Emma found herself alarmingly close to MM's face, her chin now resting on the top rung of the bunk. She shuffled backwards and cleared her throat. "I'm kinda dating one of the people who was there that day."

"You're dating a victim? How? I mean … yeah, I just mean how?"

Emma let out a low chuckle. "You got me there. I don't quite understand it either. Some days I can't even believe she's interested in me, but it seems like she is."

"And she can take part in the program? Does Ruby know?"

"Yeah, she was there when we kissed. Ruby and Archie know. But that's it. Well, I guess you know now but I don't want it getting out, ok? It's supposed to be a secret."

"Why?"

Emma shrugged. "I dunno, actually. I just feel a bit weird telling people. I mean, it's not like Regina and I have actually defined what we are to each other. I guess if I told people it would make it official and I still can't quite believe it's happening."

"Regina? As in Regina Mills? The daughter of that tech gazillionaire?"

"I don't know what her dad does but yeah, that's the one."

"Wow, caught yourself a big fish there. Nice one. If I were you, I'd be shouting it from the rooftops."

The blonde grinned. "I mean, I can't deny I want to, but I don't want to jinx it. It's all new and it's not like dating in here is easy. I guess I don't want to get my hopes up."

"What do you mean?"

Emma hesitated. Could she trust MM? This was the most they had talked for weeks and she had already shared deeply personal information with her. But at the same time, it was refreshing to speak with someone who wasn't a counsellor or a therapist about what had been on her mind ever since she had come to Storybrooke. Perhaps she and MM could be friends.

"What if she likes the idea of me? You know how rich girls like to date bad boys, right? What if I'm that rebellious streak for Regina? She likes to wind up her parents by getting involved, knowing that while I'm in here we'll never be together and then as soon as I'm free, she'll disappear off to the Upper East Side and I'll never see her again."

"Woah, has she said any of that?" MM asked.

"No," Emma admitted. "In fact, it's been her who's vocalised how she feels more than me."

Without being invited, MM climbed up Emma's ladder and plonked herself down at the end of the blonde's bed. Holding out a pack of candy she had grabbed on the way up, MM chewed on her own treat for a moment before answering.

"I mean, from what you've said, it sounds like she likes you. She wanted to get involved with this program, right?"

"Yeah, it was her idea actually. She said it was the only way we could see each other while I'm in here and she told me to ask Ruby about it."

"So she's making an effort. She's actively trying to see you, to spend time with you. Why do you think she's doing that if she's not interested?"

Emma shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe she's bored?"

"Rich people are never bored. They just spend their money on something new to entertain themselves. No, she likes you. If she's traipsing out to this shithole on a Friday to sit through some dumb rehabilitation program just so you two can see each other, she must like you a lot, actually."

"But … why?"

MM cocked her head. "This is a self-esteem thing, isn't it?"

Emma shrugged again and stuffed her hand into the bag of candy between them. "Maybe."

"Yeah, never had a problem with that myself," MM grinned. "I'm awesome, you see."

The blonde couldn't help but smile. "Oh you are, are you?"

"Pretty much," MM nodded. "And if I want to be with someone, I put in the effort. If they don't step up and do the same, then they're not worth it. Regina's putting the effort in to see you, Emma. That means she's interested, right? Only problem is, how can you show her you are?"

"What?" Emma asked, alarmed. "Of course I'm interested."

"Really? Did you tell her that?"

Emma paused. "I kissed her. And I took part in the program for her. I've got to meet with loads of people who were in the bank that day, not just her."

"Good start. Does Regina know that?"

"I didn't tell her."

"You should. Make sure she knows the shit you have to go through to get an hour with her."

"Well, I mean, it's shit I deserve, right? Everyone who was hurt by my actions deserves their chance to face me."

"Urgh, you're so … good! How the hell did you end up in here in the first place? No wonder the judge gave you a light sentence. You're clearly going to get out of here and become an upstanding citizen."

"Aren't you?"

MM scoffed. "Probably not. I'll go back to what I'm good at. I'm a bandit, remember? What good are school grades to me when I can't take an exam in pickpocketing or shoplifting? I'd ace those. Geography, however, not my strong suit."

"Right," Emma said slowly. "Well, no offence but I don't want a life of crime. I want a future where I can get a job and be normal with a house and a mortgage and all that boring shit which adults do. It seems … nice, I guess."

"Yeah, and there's that goodness which got you off a federal charge with barely a slap on the wrist."

"Regina helped with that too, to be fair."

"What?" MM asked.

"Regina spoke for me in court, like a character witness, I suppose. She told the judge I was a good person and that I kept her safe that day. She's the main reason the judge went easy on me."

"OMG this girl is so head over heels for you, Emma. You're not going to need to get that mortgage because you're going to marry into a fucking fortune. You walked into a bank hoping to rob a few thousand and ended up stealing the heart of the girl of your dreams. You're the luckiest person in the world."

Emma stared at the grinning woman for a moment before starting to laugh. MM joined in and soon the two of them were cackling like hyenas. Emma leaned back on her pillow and laughed until her stomach hurt and tears rolled down her cheeks. It felt good to laugh. Unfamiliar but good. As she wiped her eyes, she smiled over at MM who was regaining control of herself. It felt good to have a friend, too.

* * *

"How did it go?"

"Have you two been standing there the whole time waiting for me?" Regina asked as she closed the front door, shaking the raindrops from her coat onto the mat and shrugging it off.

"No," Cora defended. "How was it?"

"Fine," Regina replied. "Good, I guess."

"Helpful?" her mother pushed.

"To me or to Emma?"

"Both, I suppose," the older woman reasoned.

Regina hesitated, hanging up her coat while she formulated her answer. "Yes, it was helpful. Emma and I talked about some of the emotions which came up that day which will affect our relationship."

"Relationship?" Henry repeated.

"What emotions?" Cora asked at the same time.

"Yes, relationship, Daddy," Regina sighed. "I mean, it's not official but fundamentally we're together. I'm not interested in dating anyone else and I'm pretty sure she's not. And Mom, I'm sorry but I don't want to go into any details. They're private sessions and I'm an adult now. Is that ok?"

Cora looked like she wanted to pressure her daughter to give up more but seemed to think better of it. "Of course, dear. But if you do want to talk, your father and I are here to listen, aren't we Henry?"

"Of course, princess," Henry said. "Whatever you need, we're here."

"Thanks," Regina smiled. "I'm going to my room. Is that ok?"

With her parents' consent, Regina climbed the stairs. She was desperate to escape their questions and have some time alone to process what had happened. Entering her bedroom, she groaned at the state of the floor. She had forgotten about the fashion disaster she had experienced before leaving. Stepping over the clothes which lay strewn across the floor, she made her way to her bed and fell, face forwards, onto the crumpled duvet.

"Fuck," she mumbled into the soft fabric beneath her.

The day had been intense but not negative. On the contrary, the overall outcome was surely positive. But it was still a lot to take in. The memory of Emma's tears swam into her mind and she felt the stab of pain again, the ache of knowing she was responsible for causing that sadness. Emma needed to be aware of the way Regina felt, she knew. But it was still hard.

And then there was the kiss. Rolling onto her back, Regina reached up and touched her lips where Emma's mouth had pressed against her own. The scar from that day had long since healed but she could feel the slight dip in the marred flesh beneath her fingertips. She tried to avoid looking at the mark in the mirror when she did her makeup. Perhaps now she's be able to think of Emma, however, and how it felt for them to connect in such an intimate way.

Intimate. It was an unfamiliar word to Regina. While she had had boyfriends in the past, she wouldn't describe their relationships as intimate. The few kisses she had shared with Emma in the limited time they had spent together had been far more intimate and emotionally charged than anything she had experienced in the past. Why? Was it because Emma was a woman? Perhaps but Regina had never believed in labelling people's sexuality. It was about the person, not their genitals. Whatever they shared, it had nothing to do with gender. It was something more, something deeper than that.

And that was why when Emma started talking about sex, even in front of their audience, Regina felt herself tingle slightly, deep inside. She had never been interested in sex with her boyfriends. One or two of them had tried to push her in that direction but she had been resistant, the thought thoroughly unappealing. With Emma, however, the thought was quite the opposite of unappealing.

Reaching for her cell, she dialled her best friend. Zelena answered after a few rings.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

"We kissed." It was abrupt and to the point but it was also all she could think about so that was what she said.

"What? They left you alone?"

"No," Regina replied, blushing slightly as she remembered that Ruby and August had been there to witness them.

Zelena whistled down the phone. "Woo, getting freaky with an audience. I never took you as someone who was into voyeurism."

The brunette scoffed. "I'm not. It's just that we didn't exactly have the chance to be alone and when Emma kissed me, I kissed her back."

"Aw, you two are annoying cute despite the fact that she's a murderer, or whatever," Zelena chuckled.

"Emma didn't murder anyone," Regina defended. "But yes, we are cute. I … Zee, I've not felt like this about anyone before."

"Felt like what?"

"I don't know, I can't describe it. But whatever it is, it makes me feel really good."

"Better than Daniel made you feel?" Zelena couldn't deny that she was a little confused as to why Regina had dumped the boy who would inherit millions to be with a homeless girl who was in prison. While she trusted Regina's judgement, she still didn't understand the reasoning.

"Incomparably better," Regina said at once. "I liked Daniel but it's nothing in relation to what I feel for Emma."

"Do you love her?"

Regina balked at the blunt question. "What? No, I mean, no I couldn't love her. I barely know her."

"Dude, do you watch TV? Or read? Or listen to music? People can fall in love just by making eye contact. You and Emma have done a hell of a lot more than that, right?"

"I guess."

"Ok, answer me this. What do you think about when you first wake up in the morning?"

"How furry my teeth feel and how desperately I want to brsh them."

Zelena laughed. "Ok, and then after that?"

There was a pause and then; "Emma."

"And when something good happens, or bad, whatever. When something significant happens in your day, who do you want to tell?"

Another pause. "Emma."

"Now, while I'm trying not to be offended here in my position as official best friend, don't you think those answers tell you something?"

There was yet another pause, this one much longer than the others.

"I'm in love with Emma."

* * *

A/N: cos teenagers fall in love fast, right?


	32. The Testimony

A/N: Happy Sunday peeps. Consider this the chapter where I try to wrap up a few little storylines I feel I've left fluttering in abandonment …

* * *

"All your results came back negative."

Emma let out a whoosh of relief and then faltered. "Hang on, negative results are a good thing, right?"

The nurse smiled. "In this instance, yes. All the tests we did showed that you don't have any STIs and you're not pregnant. I'm not recommending you continue to practice unsafe sex but you appear to have dodged all of the many venereal bullets this time."

"Whew," Emma sighed. "Because that would have really blown a hole in my future plans."

She was only half joking. It wasn't as if she really did have any future plans beyond getting out of juvie but equally she doubted Regina would want to be in a relationship with a convicted felon teenager mom. Surely that was the exact opposite of the life she and her parents had dreamed for the daughter of a billionaire. Emma alone was already a stretch; a fatherless baby would have been one step too far. And she wasn't ready to be a mother, with or without Regina. She was a child herself. One day, yes. One day she wanted a family. But not yet.

"We run health and hygiene workshops here regularly, you know," the nurse continued.

"I know how to look after myself and how to wash," Emma bit back, suddenly defensive despite the nurse's kindly nature. "But when you don't have a roof over your head, buying condoms isn't your first priority, ok?"

"Of course," the nurse placated. "But if you do have any questions about health or your body or anything, you can always come to me or whomever is on duty. We're here for you all, ok?"

"Sure, thanks," Emma said shortly as she got to her feet.

She didn't need another woman trying to be her mother. There had been enough of that in the foster system. Most of them had been well-meaning but the relationships had never worked out. It wasn't their fault; it was she who resisted. She was still resisting. Emma didn't need anyone to take care of her. She could look after herself. Exiting the nurse's office, she headed to the dining room to have lunch. But before she made it there, Ruby caught up with her in the corridor.

"Hey, got a minute?" the redhead asked.

"Sure, what's up?" Emma said, stopping and turning to her counsellor.

"Tina Bell just called me. Lily's murder trial is set to start next week. You'll be needed for your testimony. She wants to meet you tomorrow to go over what you're going to say."

Emma felt her stomach drop. She had almost forgotten how she betrayed her friend in exchange for her own future. The legal side of the trial preparation had taken months and she had started to think perhaps the case would just … disappear. Wishful thinking which clearly had not transpired, she mused.

"Fine," Emma said, nerves coiling inside her. "Um, will you be there when I meet Tink?"

"Would you like me to be?"

Emma hesitated. It wasn't that she needed Ruby. Emma didn't need anyone. But she couldn't deny that the thought of her being nearby was comforting, especially given the magnitude of what she was about to do. After a moment, she nodded.

"Then yes, Emma, I'll be there for you. Come to my office after your math class tomorrow afternoon to meet with Miss Bell, ok?"

Emma nodded. Ruby smiled and patted her shoulder before hurrying off. Emma continued on to the dining room. But she wasn't hungry any more. The realisation was hitting her all over again that she had bargained her friend's future for her own. Even though Tink had insisted the prosecution's case didn't hinge on her testimony, Emma couldn't quite believe she was going to become a part of the team which helped to put Lily behind bars.

Did her friend deserve it? Perhaps. She had killed someone, after all. But the only reason she and any of them were in that bank was because of Neal. Sure, the man was dead so he got punished in his own way. But wasn't it too easy? Isn't death a cop out compared to twenty-five years in prison and having to live with the knowledge of the crimes one has committed as well as the impact those crimes have had on others?

Emma felt like that after her meeting with bank's receptionist the previous day for the RJP. It had been emotionally charged, just like the meeting with Regina. Different emotions, but emotional none the less. Luckily for her, the receptionist had said all she needed to and did not want a second meeting. Emma had listened, apologised, answered questions and shared a little of her background. It had gone exactly as the meetings were supposed to go, Ruby had said afterwards. Emma was just pleased it was over.

She was dreading the next one; it was with the parents and wife of the man who had been killed. The meeting wasn't for two weeks but she already struggled to get to sleep each night, mind filled with anticipation. Would the man's family be in court the following week? Probably she mused as her plate was loaded up with food she wasn't remotely hungry for. Would she meet them before the RJP appointment? And if so, what would she say?

"Hey," MM said appearing opposite her as she took her seat. "So, all good?"

"What?" Emma asked, confused at the vague question.

"The tests," MM prompted. "Are you clean or do you have the clap."

Emma wrinkled her nose. "No, I'm clean thanks."

"Good," MM grinned, reaching over a snaffling some of the soggy fries off Emma's plate. "So, are you playing basketball this afternoon?"

"Maybe," Emma shrugged. She didn't feel much like playing if she was honest but perhaps the exercise would help to clear her head.

"Hey," MM said, tapping her hand where it lay on the table. "Are you ok?"

Emma looked up and forced a smile for her new friend. "I'm fine, honestly."

The pixie haired brunette looked unconvinced but seemed to decide against pushing Emma further. Surprisingly, she had become less intrusive and nosey since the two of them had become friends. Or perhaps she was just satisfied with the information Emma chose to share with her. Either way, Emma was pleased she had confided in her bunkmate. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if her friend was a thief.

"Hey, stop eating my food," Emma said, swatting away the skinny hand which was now reaching for her yoghurt pot.

MM pouted but retreated her sneaky fingers, instead launching into a conversation about the team's new offensive tactic for their basketball match. Emma forced herself to listen, if only because it meant she was distracted from what was to come the following week.

* * *

"Tink, you know my parents have put a fucking team of security guards on me." Regina hissed into her cell phone. "How am I supposed to bunk off school and get down to the courthouse without them finding out?"

"I don't know," the lawyer replied. "But you're a bright girl. I'll leave it up to you figure out the logistics. I just figured you'd want to know what's happening."

Regina sighed. "I do. Thanks. Did you tell Emma you'd tell me?"

"No, I didn't want to get her hopes up just in case you can't make it. She's already nervous about the whole thing so I didn't want to add to the stress. But I think your presence could really help calm her down. And as she's a witness and because of her crime and the sentence she's been given, I'll be able to prep her in one of the small meeting rooms not the cells downstairs, so you two can have some time together. Just don't tell your parents, ok?"

"Of course not," Regina said at once. "Tink, thank you, seriously. But I have to ask you, why are you doing this?"

There was a pause and then; "I'm rooting for you guys. I've seen you together and there's something special between you. Can I help it if I'm a fan of young love?"

Regina spluttered through the sip of water she had just taken. "Love?" she asked, coughing as she wiped the splattered water droplets from her homework which was spread over the desk before her.

"Yeah, sweetie, love. Haven't you worked that out yet?"

"Well, yeah, sort of. But I hadn't told anyone except Zelena. I haven't even told Emma. Do … do you think she feels the same way?" Regina faltered over the final words.

"Perhaps that's something the two of you can talk about. Next week. Thursday. She'll be the first witness after lunch if all goes to schedule. I'm arriving at midday to help prep her. See you there?"

"Yes," Regina nodded, already planning how she could get out of school unseen by her security shadows and make her way to Emma as Tink said her goodbyes and hung up.

Whatever it required, she knew she'd take the risk. It had been over a week since their RJP meeting and she was desperate to see Emma. The next session wasn't booked in for another three weeks. One a month, they'd agreed upon, for as long as they needed. But the idea of not seeing Emma for three more weeks was almost unbearable. At least with the court case they had the chance to spend a little time together. The problem was, how could she get to the court without her parents finding out?

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Zelena hissed.

"Do you have a better plan?" the brunette asked without looking at her friend who was stood behind her.

"No, but this is extra stupid. I mean, this wig is terrible. My hair is way better." She tugged at the orange waterfall cascading down Regina's back.

"Shut up and stop complaining. Are you ready?"

Zelena grumbled but nodded. "If you scratch my car, I'll kill you."

Regina turned slowly. "Fire hydrant, Zee. That's all I'm saying, ok?"

The redhead pouted and pushed Regina in the small of the back and together they walked out of the school and into the parking lot. Arms linked as always, they made their way to their vehicles. Regina couldn't help but glance at the black sedan parked outside from beneath a curtain of orange wig. Beside her, Zelena scratched her head.

"Stop it," Regina hissed.

"This wig is itchy as fuck," she grumbled. "I think it has nits."

"Shut up and get in my car," Regina said as they reached the Mercedes. "Drive it to mine and into the garage ok? Then go to my bedroom and wait there. Mom won't be back from her charity board meeting until three and Daddy is in Europe, ok?"

"Yeah, I know the plan. I hide in your bedroom while you go and make out with your girlfriend in a courtroom."

"Pretty much," Regina grinned. "Now, get in the car before those guys realise you're not me."

"I can't even believe they would be fooled for a minute. I mean, I'm so much prettier than you."

"Fuck off," Regina said laughing as Zelena ducked into the Mercedes and she headed towards the Porsche parked beside it.

Once inside, she waited for Zelena to back her car out of its space and drive off. She did the same and caught up with the redhead at the parking lot exit. As her best friend pulled the Mercedes smoothly into the traffic, she saw the sedan slide into the flow behind it and drive away. Regina smirked before joining the throng of New Yorkers heading into the city centre. At the first set of lights, Zelena turned left towards Regina's family home, the sedan right on her tail. Regina continued onwards, in the direction of the court.

* * *

Tink smiled and waved as she saw Emma climb out of the van. She was handcuffed but as soon as she was inside the meeting room, she'd be released. The blonde looked nervous but smart. She was wearing the suit which Tink had bought for her and her hair looked freshly washed. Aside from the handcuffs, she looked like a normal, respectable young woman.

"Hey," she said as Emma reached her, a guard from the juvenile centre at her side with a stony expression on his face. "How are you?"

"I'm here," she shrugged. "Can we get this over with?"

Tink nodded and turned, leading the way into the court and the room which she had secured for their wait before Emma was due to appear. She decided not to tell Emma about her little surprise. She'd find out soon enough.

"How was the journey?"

"Picturesque," Emma deadpanned.

Tink realised that her question had been foolish. The woman had been locked in the back of a windowless truck. Of course it had been bad. They continued their walk in silence until they got to the room. Stopping outside the door, Tink instructed Emma's companion to uncuff the blonde. He did so, informing the lawyer that he'd be waiting outside to escort Emma to the courtroom. With a nod of agreement, Tink opened the door and ushered Emma inside.

"Regina." The blonde stopped dead as soon as she saw who was sat at the table in front of her.

"Emma," the older teen smiled, jumping to her feet and rushing towards the startled girl.

Tink closed the door and stepped away, heading towards the cluster of chairs and turning her back on the embrace. Emma opened her arms just as Regina launched herself into them, throwing her own around the dumbstruck blonde and burying her face in the thick, silky hair.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked, her arms automatically encircling Regina's slender frame.

"I came to see you," Regina said, still not letting Emma go. "Tink told me you'd be here."

Emma looked past Regina's shoulder and saw the lawyer smirking at them. 'Thank you,' she mouthed before pulling back and cupping Regina's face in her hands. The kiss was slow and soft, the action still new and unfamiliar. Regina's lips parted as Emma's tongue grazed over the plump flesh, allowing the exploration. Hands landed on Emma's hips, an attempt to ground Regina's spinning head as the blonde's tongue teased her own.

Sliding her hands backwards, her fingers trailed down the defined jaw onto the smooth skin of her neck before interlacing at the nape, angling Regina's head gently backwards as she deepened the kiss. A low, quiet moan escaped as Regina felt Emma take control. Fingertips dug more tightly against her hips, pulling Emma closer.

Neither woman wanted the kiss to end. But eventually Emma pulled back, placing several chaste pecks on the slightly swollen lips, unable to break away completely.

"Wow," Regina said, gazing up into Emma's flushed face.

"Wow," Emma nodded, resting her forehead against Regina's. "I can't believe you're here."

"I had to see you," Regina said simply. "I missed you."

Emma smiled and kissed Regina again, unable to get enough of the soft lips. "I missed you too. So much. I can't believe it's only been two weeks."

"I know," Regina replied. "But luckily Tink is on our side."

"Oh yeah?" Emma asked, pulling away so she could look at her lawyer. "And which side is that?"

"The side of young love," the older blonde said with a wink.

At those words, Regina's cheeks darkened considerably, eyes blown wide. But Emma took the comment in her stride and grinned at Tink before leaning down to kiss Regina again.

"It's so good to see you," she said. "Are you going to come into court with me?"

Regina shook her. "I can't, not with the press. But I wanted to be here with you. I know this isn't going to be easy for you, testifying against your friend."

Back to earth with a bump, Emma's lips set in a firm line and she nodded, taking a step back away from Regina and letting her hands fall to her side. The brunette felt a wave of guilt at having ended their moment but she also knew she had to be realistic, and so did Emma.

"Come on," she said, reaching for Emma's hands and interlacing their fingers. "Let's just talk it through. Tink will help you."

Reluctantly, Emma allowed herself to be led over to the table where the lawyer was waiting patiently for them. Tink knew that if the Mills found out what she was doing for their daughter, she'd in all likelihood be out of a job. But she had seen what Regina and Emma shared and something deep inside her wanted to help the two women be together.

"How are you feeling about testifying, Emma?" Tink asked as her client sat down in front of her, Regina seated beside her with their hands still clasped.

"Like the worst human on the planet," Emma replied. "What I'm doing for Lily is unforgivable."

"What Lily did is unforgivable," Regina reminded her. "She killed someone, Emma. She deserves to be punished for that."

"And, as I've told you, the prosecution case is solid. All we need to do is tell us what you saw and then what Neal told you. You didn't witness the crime itself, but you can speak to the order of events. Now, you know the defence lawyer will object when you tell the jury what Neal told you because it will be considered hearsay. But it doesn't matter. What is said in a courtroom cannot be unsaid, even if the judge agrees with the objection. The jury will remember that little nugget and it will just add to all the other evidence, ok?"

"Yes," Emma nodded. "I know what I have to do and I know what I have to say but … Lily will never forgive me."

Regina squeezed Emma's hand. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course," Emma frowned. "We're friends."

"She's a murderer, Emma," Regina said simply. "You can't be friends with a murderer."

"That's not the only thing about her," Emma sighed. "We were good friends before. I know what she's done is wrong but I feel bad for her. She had a shitter childhood than me and then I got her wrapped up in Neal's scheme. If it wasn't for me, she wouldn't have done this."

"Emma," Tink said firmly. "You can't think like that. You can't blame yourself and you can't think about what ifs. The event has happened. A man is dead. And Lily must be punished for that. The circumstances are immaterial."

"My circumstances are what helped me get a one year sentence," Emma shot back. "The circumstances do matter. I mean, Regina spoke for me in court; who's speaking for Lily?"

"One of her foster moms is coming in apparently. She's got people in her corner, don't worry. And while Regina and I admire your loyalty to Lily, you do realise that you need to do this for that lenient sentence to stay in effect, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Emma sighed. "But I don't have to be happy about it, right?"

"No, fair enough," Tink replied. "Just as long as we're clear on what you have to say. If anything goes wrong, the deal could be off for you."

Emma pursed her lips but nodded. She'd already done it; betrayed her friend by taking the deal. Now she just had to stand in open court and tell the truth, even if it did help the prosecution team hammer another nail into Lily's coffin.

"Right, well, I'm going to go and sit in the corner of the room and make a very unimportant phone call while facing the wall. In the meantime, as long as you both remain fully dressed, I'm going to give you some privacy." Getting to her feet, Tink performed an exaggerated wink and then did as promised, dragging over a chair and placing it so she was looking directly at the white wall as she pulled out her cell.

Regina made a mental note to thank Tink later and turned to Emma. "Are you ok?" she asked, seeing the blonde chewing her bottom lip.

"No, I'm the worst friend in the world," she grumbled. "I'm literally selling Lily out to save myself. She thinks I'm her friend, Regina. Seeing me on the stand is going to crush her."

"And seeing you in prison for five years would crush me," Regina replied.

"So this is a choice? You or Lily?"

"No, the choice is you or Lily, not me and you already made that decision. You agreed to testify months ago, Emma. And I think your loyalty to her is admirable, I really do. But you must be able to recognise that Lily has committed a crime which needs to be punished. She's dangerous. Far more dangerous than our legal system considers you. And you know that I don't think you're dangerous at all. In fact, you make me feel safe."

Emma couldn't help but smile, her tortured lip released from her teeth. "I would pick you, by the way. If there was a choice between you and Lily, you and anyone actually, I'd pick you. But that doesn't mean I'm not entitled to feel crummy about what I'm doing, right?"

"Of course you're entitled to your emotions, sweetheart," Regina said, reaching forwards and caressing Emma's cheek. "Feel whatever you need to feel. But thank you, for choosing me."

"Thank you for choosing me," Emma said, leaning forwards and kissing Regina softly. "I still can't believe it, you know?"

"Well, start believing it. Because it's happening. We're happening?"

"We are?"

"Oh yeah, we are," Regina grinned, kissing Emma firmly. "This is the best relationship I've ever been in already so imagine what it will be like when you get out."

Emma smiled. "Only nine months to go."

"They'll fly by. I can't believe it's already November."

"Me neither," Emma replied. "Although I'll have to be in an adult prison for the past two months."

"At least I'll be able to visit you then, once you're not a minor. We might even be allowed a conjugal."

Emma's eyes widened. "W-what?"

"I mean, if we want." Had she misread Emma's desire for her? Regina started to doubt herself as she saw the shock on Emma's face.

"No, I mean, I would love … that," Emma stumbled. "But, wouldn't it be your first time? If it happened, I mean."

Regina blushed. "Yes."

"Then it's not happening in a prison. If you've waited to find the right person, you can wait until we're at least in a beautiful, romantic location with candlelight and soft music and a sea breeze coming in through an open window which looks onto a deserted moonlit each, not a crappy visitor's room with a filthy bed."

"Yeah, perhaps you're right," Regina nodded.

"I am right," Emma said, leaning back towards the brunette. "But I need you to know that there's no pressure. From me, I mean. You can take as long as you want to decide if you're ready. Me too, actually. I've not been particularly selective in the past with my partners and I want to change that with you. It has to be right for both of us."

"Ok," Regina nodded. "Thank you. But, for the record, you are the right person."

"But the day we met you said you wouldn't have sex with someone unless -"

"I love you," Regina blurted out, loud enough for Tink to stop her conversation on her phone and turn towards the teens.

Emma blinked several times, as if trying to process the information. "What?"

"I love you," Regina repeated. "I realised after our meeting. I know it's quick and I know I don't know you well but I love you, Emma. I just … I need you to know that."

"Why?"

"Why do I need you to know how I feel?"

"No, why do you love me?"

Regina sighed and reached for Emma's hands. "Because, Emma Swan, you are one of the kindest, sweetest, most loving, generous, interesting, passionate and fiercely protective people I have ever met. I might not know everything about you yet but I want to and I can't wait for us to spend more time together, outside of courtrooms and prisons and … banks."

There was a pause, followed by a chuckle. "Yeah, let's steer clear of banks for a while. It's not like I have any money to put into an account anyway."

Regina grinned. "Deal. No banks."

Leaning forwards, Emma joined their lips once more. She felt Regina melt into the contact and allowed the connection to continue, soft and delicate. Regina's tongue traced the seam of her lips, a gentle request for entry which Emma granted at once. The teen took her time, exploring Emma's mouth, swiping her tongue against the blonde's as their fingers tightened together.

"Oh," Emma said, pulling back suddenly. "I forgot something."

"What?"

"I love you too."

* * *

A/N: I decided not to make Emma pregnant. It was a complication too far for these characters. From your previous reviews, it was a mix of people wanting her to be pregnant with Henry and not wanting it. Since I'm nearing the end of where I see myself writing these versions of our ladies, I went for not. Let's focus on our loved up gals and nothing more, right? Also, out of interest, I did look up conjugal visits for same sex relationships in New York and you need to be married or in a civil partnership just like heterosexual relationships, just FYI.


	33. The Comforting

A/N: I decided there was no need to write the court scene. All we want is to understand the emotional repercussions on Emma and I can show that best with a conversation with Regina. Which is what we all want, right?

* * *

Regina found herself waiting nervously for almost an hour. It was getting close to the time she knew she needed to leave to relieve Zelena of her duty of pretending to be her but she wanted to see Emma after the testimony. Luckily just as she was about to give up and write a note for the blonde, the door to the small meeting room opened. She jumped to her feet at once.

"How was it?" she asked as the ashen faced blonde walked in, Tink right behind her.

"Awful," Emma said bitterly, crossing and wrapping her arms around the teen. Regina hugged her back, waiting for the trembling woman to speak rather than pushing her with more questions. After an hour in a courtroom, the blonde had had enough of being interrogated. "She hates me, Regina," Emma whispered, pulling the brunette even closer.

"No she doesn't," Regina soothed, rubbing a hand up and down the blonde's back. "She'll understand."

"She literally yelled at me as I left the courtroom, 'I hate you,' so yeah, she does and no, she doesn't." Emma pulled away and wiped her eyes. "She'll never forgive me."

Regina couldn't quite understand why Emma wanted the forgiveness of a soon to be convicted murderer but she had to admire the woman's blind loyalty to her friend. That said, she couldn't help but be secretly pleased that it seemed Lily would no longer be a part of Emma's friendship circles. Although she recognised Neal was the leader of their group that day, Lily had been the one to pull the trigger. She knew Emma was different; Emma would never have hurt someone, even if Neal had told her to. She was, fundamentally, good.

"You did the right thing," Regina murmured. "For yourself, Emma. For us, you and me, you did the right thing."

"I guess, but right now, I feel like the worst friend in the world."

Knowing there was nothing she could say to change Emma's mind, Regina just wrapped her arms back around the blonde, offering her some semblance of support while she worked through the complex emotions. Emma buried her face against Regina's neck and she could feel the warm wetness from the blonde's tears against her skin. Over Emma's shoulder, Regina saw Tink tapping her wrist, indicating that they didn't have much time. She nodded her understanding but made no move to release the distraught woman in her arms.

Tink, ever the advocate for their relationship, stood quietly in the corner of the room checking her emails for as long as she could. One from Henry Mills about an unrelated civil suit caught her attention and sent a twinge of guilt to her gut. She knew she was betraying him by allowing Regina and Emma time together. However, she also saw what the two girls had. Glancing up, she saw them both still intertwined, holding one another in a tender embrace which she didn't have the heart to end. But when the impatient knock on the door eventually came from Emma's guard, she forced herself to intervene.

"Guys, I'm sorry but I have to take Emma downstairs. Say your goodbyes," she said, turning once again to face the wall to offer some privacy.

Regina felt Emma take a deep breath before she pulled back. The brunette offered a supportive smile and reached to wipe the tear tracks from the high cheekbones. "I'll see you in two weeks," she promised, reminding the blonde that they at least had their RJP meetings to look forward to.

"It's too long," Emma murmured. "I just want to be with you all the time."

"Me too," Regina replied. "Nine more months, ok?"

"You'll really wait that long? You won't get bored? Or meet someone else?"

Regina shook her head. "I'd wait forever if necessary, Emma. You're worth it. I know this is fast and confusing and makes no sense but I know how I feel. Whatever this is, it's real."

"God, you're amazing," Emma said, kissing the plump lips which smiled up at her. "How did I get so lucky?"

"I'd say it was about time for something good to happen in your life."

Emma chuckled. "Well, I guess that's true. But you are definitely more than I deserve."

"Never," Regina said, rocking onto her tiptoes to press her lips against Emma's.

Tink turned around at that moment and reluctantly cleared her throat. "Emma, time to go."

Emma nodded her understanding and kissed the brunette once more. "Thank you for coming. It got me through being on that stand, knowing you were here waiting for me."

"I'll always be here," Regina promised.

The blonde smiled her gratitude. "See you in two weeks?"

"Two weeks," Regina nodded. "I love you."

At that, Emma beamed back at her, despite the events she had just experienced in the courtroom. "I love you too."

Tink opened the door to the corridor and Emma turned towards it, spotting her guard who was waiting, swinging the handcuffs casually from his fingers. She grimaced but walked towards him, away from Regina. The brunette stood where she was, trying not to think about the clink of metal which meant the cuffs had enclosed Emma's wrists. Before she stepped out into the courthouse corridor, Emma glanced over her shoulder. Regina smiled at her and raised her hand to wave. And then she was gone, the door closing with a click behind Emma and her lawyer, leaving Regina quite alone.

* * *

"She told you she loves you?" MM gawped at the blonde after she had heard the story of the day's event in court later that afternoon. "What did you say?"

"I told her I loved her too," Emma replied, picking up another piece of chocolate and popping it into her mouth. One of the benefits of being friends with MM is that the young woman seemed to have a never-ending supply of candy. And, judging by her slender figure, an incredible metabolism.

"Do you?"

"What?" Emma frowned. "Yes, of course I do. She's the most incredible person I've ever met. I mean, she's clever and kind and funny and sexy and beautiful and she makes me feel good about myself too. Even on a crappy day like today, when I'm with Regina, it feels like everything is going to be ok. That's love, isn't it?"

MM shrugged and leaned back against her pillow which she had carried up to Emma's bunk so the two of them could sit more comfortably as they talked; it had become an evening ritual. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in love, not really?"

"Not really? How can you partially be in love?" Emma asked.

"Well, I liked this guy when I was in school. David. He was dreamy, you know? Like a Prince Charming kinda dreamy." MM's eyes seemed to glaze over at the memory.

"Yeah? And?"

"And he didn't know I existed," MM sighed. "I never even spoke to him. You can't be in love with someone you've never spoken to, right? Plus, even if I was, it's not like he'd be interested in me. I'm just the mousey kid who gets into trouble all the time and runs with the wrong crowd. He's never going to give me the time of day let alone fall in love with me."

"Well, not when you're in here, but you get out in three months, right? Maybe try talking to him when you go back to school."

"And say what?" MM asked.

"I'd start with a simple, 'hi'," Emma suggested. "What have you got to lose?"

"My dignity?" MM deadpanned.

"Nah, it's worth a shot," Emma grinned. "I mean, if a woman like Regina Mills can love me, then I'm sure you can get your Prince Charming. Do you know where you're going to go when you get out, by the way?"

"Back into the foster system I guess," MM said, stuffing more chocolate into her mouth. "But I'll be eighteen a few weeks after I get released so they can't keep me there after that."

"Yeah, but don't you want to graduate and stuff?"

MM shrugged. "What good's a high school certificate going to do for someone like me?"

"Give you options?"

At that, MM rolled her eyes. "You sound like the counsellors here. How are you still so sure that you're going to have a good life? I mean, what makes you think you're not going to go back to whatever it was you did when you lived on the streets?"

"Because that's not what I want for myself," Emma said simply. "I didn't like the person I was back then and I'm not too keen on who I am now but I know I want to be better. I want to be someone who makes a difference, a positive difference, in the world. I want to be someone who feels worthy of Regina and who can feel proud to be with her. But not just for our relationship; I want to feel proud of myself. So far, I don't think I've done anything in seventeen years anyone would be particularly proud of. Being in here is a second chance."

"A second chance to what?" MM asked, the final piece of chocolate snaffled before Emma's fingers reached it.

The blonde pouted at the missed treat but continued. "A second chance to get it right. I don't want to come back here or end up in a proper prison. I'm already dreading the couple of months I'll be there. I know I will do whatever it takes to make sure that I don't end up behind bars again because I know how bad it is in here."

"Come on, you know some foster homes are just as bad, if not worse."

"Yeah but we're not kids any more," Emma pointed out. "We're not going back into the system. Once we leave this place, we're pretty much on our own. We don't get placed with families who, even if they're not great, put food on the table for us. Once I get out, and a few weeks after you do, we'll be adults. No one will look after us or be responsible for us. We'll have to do all that adulting shit for ourselves."

"Adulting is hard," MM pouted.

"I know!" Emma laughed. "But we've gotta do it apparently. And I want to try my best to do it right."

MM quirked her lips to one side, thinking. "Do you know what you want to be? As an adult, I mean, what's your dream job?"

"I haven't really thought of anything specific, why?"

"Because you would make an awesome counsellor. You know, like Ruby is for us."

"A counsellor? In a place like this?"

"Maybe, or just someone who works with kids who've had problems. Between us I bet we've seen hundreds of counsellors. Some of them were dicks but some of them tried to help and seemed ok. Maybe you could be one of the ok counsellors."

It was true. Emma had periodically been sent to a number of specialists. Some called themselves counsellors, others were psychologists, psychiatrists and various therapists. MM was right in their varying effectiveness too. Some of them had been terrible. Some of them had been ok. And, Emma had to admit, one or two of them had been better than ok. Ruby, for her, was one such counsellor.

"An ok counsellor, is that how you see me?"

MM shrugged again. "I dunno, I just think it would suit you. I mean, you'd be able to relate to the kids. You've got experience, as it were. I think they'd connect with you and maybe you'd be someone they'd actually listen to and respect."

Emma opened her mouth to answer but fell silent, thoughts suddenly buzzing around her mind. A counsellor. A future. A purpose. Perhaps, maybe, there was a career option for which her experiences would be a help, not a hindrance.

* * *

"I can't believe you told her you loved her," Zelena squealed, bouncing up and down on Regina's bed where she was sat. "What did she say?"

"Well, after a bit of incredulity, she said she loves me too," Regina said, unable to stop the smile from spreading over her lips at the memory of the confessions she and Emma had made to one another in the small meeting room that day.

Zelena screamed and clapped her hands in excitement. "Oh this is exciting. I mean, the whole relationship is batshit crazy and makes no sense at all but exciting."

"Pretty much," Regina nodded. "Hey, thanks for helping today. I couldn't have done it without you."

"What are best friends for if not fooling your bodyguards by being your doppelgänger so you can sneak down to a court proceeding and get freaky with your girlfriend?"

"Exactly," Regina laughed. "Do you want to stay for dinner to say thanks?"

"Sure," Zelena nodded. "My parents are driving me insane with their endless questions about college. Anything to escape that scrutiny."

"You've still not told them you don't want to go and you want to do that art course in the city?"

"Have you told your parents you're in love with Emma?"

Regina grinned. "Fine, let's agree not to go down that route. Do you want to get started with that homework we got this morning?"

"Um, no, not in the slightest. I want you to tell me all about what you and Emma did this afternoon. Did it get really dirty?"

Brown eyes narrowed at the salacious smirk which was plastered across Zelena's face but when she realised there was nothing going to deter her best friend's questions, she gave in and told Zelena everything. Cora interrupted them two hours later to call them down for dinner just as Regina was musing to the redhead whether or not Emma really would want to travel to New Haven with her the following fall when she began to attend Yale University.

Regina had always known what her future entailed. She was going to do well at school, go to one of the best universities in the world and then she was going to return to work at her father's company, work with him to learn the business before she took her place as CEO when he retired. She hadn't exactly been forced into it and she certainly displayed business acumen, but the path had been set for her, rather than forged by Regina herself.

But perhaps introducing Emma into the mix was Regina's chance to do things her way. The blonde was certainly not the match which her parents had picked for her but both Mills knew better than to tell their daughter whom she should and shouldn't date. So yes, Regina would be going to Yale, she would take a job in her father's company, she would succeed her father as CEO. For now, however, it looked like she'd be doing all of those things with Emma by her side. The question was, what would Emma do?

* * *

A/N: because our ladies need a future, right?


	34. The Bereft

A/N: Happy Sunday peeps!

* * *

The nerves were back. But they were different this time. When she was meeting Regina, it was a nervous excitement. She hadn't been sure what to expect from their RJP session but a part of her couldn't wait to see the brunette again. The nerves for this meeting, however, were far more ominous.

"Are you ok?"

Jolted from her thoughts, Emma turned to her counsellor and saw a supportive smile on Ruby's face. "I don't know if I can do this," she gritted out.

"Yes, you can, Emma," Ruby reassured. "It's going to be ok. All you need to do is listen, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. And I know the family deserves this. But, to be honest, I'm not sure I'm ready to hear what they have to say."

"Well, I'm afraid this isn't all about you. It's important for them to have this opportunity."

Emma sighed. "I know. I get that. But I just feel like I'm taking the rap for something Lily did. Why isn't she meeting with them? Why do I have to speak to them?"

"Because you're the bigger person. Lily has declined to take part in the RJP. You're the one who is mature enough to take responsibility. Yes, you didn't pull the trigger but you were there that day. This meeting can offer the family the chance to begin to heal, or at least move forwards. What you're doing is amazing, Emma. And yes it's going to be hard to hear but I'm very proud of you for doing this."

Emma said nothing. She just drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it, eyes fixed on the door of the meeting room, waiting for it to open. Which it did, just a couple of minutes later.

"Hi Emma," August said as he entered the room. "How are you?"

"I'm ok," Emma replied, not looking at the case coordinator and instead focused on the three people behind him. An elderly couple and a woman who looked like she was in her early thirties followed August into the meeting room. She recognised them. They had been in court the week before, sat in the row behind the prosecutor, listening to her testimony against the woman accused of murder.

"Welcome," Ruby said, getting to her feet and prompting Emma to do the same. "I'm Ruby, Emma's counsellor."

"Patrick and Rita Dawson," the elderly man introduced, holding out his hand towards Ruby. "And this is our daughter, Lisa Wright."

"Lovely to meet you all," Ruby said. "This is Emma Swan."

"Hi," Emma muttered quietly, ducking her head as she felt three pairs of eyes burning into her face.

"Take a seat," August said, gesturing to the far side of the table.

The family did so, positioning themselves opposite Ruby and Emma who also sat back down. August glanced at Ruby who gave a reassuring nod to him, indicating that he could take the lead and start the session.

"Ok, well, let's jump right in. Emma, Patrick and Rita are the parents of Mark Wright, and Lisa is his widow. As you know, this is a session designed to allow everyone involved to discuss the events of that day. We'll start with Mark's family first and they will have some questions which we'd like you to try and answer. However, everyone in this room is aware that you were not responsible for the act which led to Mark's death and that you also weren't present in that moment. No one is blaming you, but this is an opportunity for his family to speak with someone who was involved in the events of that day."

"I understand," Emma nodded.

"Great. Patrick, would you like to start?"

August turned to the elderly man and offered a brief smile. Patrick's pale blue eyes had been unwaveringly on Emma since they entered the room but now they dropped to his lap. His wife's hand was clasped in his own; he could feel her trembling.

"Mark was our only child," he began, looking back up at Emma whose face was white. "He went to the bank that day to deposit a cheque which my brother had given him for his thirty-fifth birthday. It was just a normal day. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He wasn't doing anything to hurt anyone or provoke anyone. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And now he's gone. We've lost our son," a tear slid down his cheek, "and Lisa has lost the love of her life."

Emma's fingernails dug into her palm, trying to force herself to keep focused and not cry. This wasn't about her sadness or regret or guilt. This was about the bereaved family of a man who became an innocent victim of the biggest mistake of her life.

"Mark was the kindest, sweetest, gentlest man," the mother continued, her voice shaking slightly. "He loved art and classical music and had the most amazing capacity for compassion, especially for animals. I don't think he'd even kill a mosquito. He and Lisa were about to start a family and now he'll never get to be a father. He'll never know the joy of having children and raising them and growing old with someone he loves. And Lisa, she's lost her soulmate."

"I've never loved anyone the way I love Mark," Lisa said, her voice thick with emotions. Emma's eyes snapped over to the widow who was already crying. "And I never will again. I know people say I'll get over this in time and I'll find someone new but I won't. Mark was it for me. And he was taken. Because of you."

Emma didn't reply. She didn't even try and defend herself against the accusation, despite its false nature. If the family needed someone to blame, and if that person couldn't be Lily, she would take it. If it made them, in any way, begin to come to terms with their loss, then she'd be that person. Ruby, however, had other ideas.

"Now, we all know that Emma was not directly responsible for what happened to Mark. In order for this to be a productive meeting for both sides, it's important we stick to the facts."

"She might not have shot him but she was there," Lisa spat.

Emma visibly shrank at the venom behind those words. There was no comeback; she was there. Perhaps if she had been in the room when Lily shot she could have stopped it from happening. But wondering 'what ifs' wasn't going to help anyone now.

"Emma also testified in court and helped secure the sentence which Lily was handed yesterday," August pointed out.

"What?" both Emma and Ruby said together.

"No one told you?" August asked. Both women shook their heads. "The jury came back after a few hours. She was found guilty of murder. Sentenced to twenty-five years."

"It's not enough," Lisa said. "She gets twenty-five years in prison and my husband's life is ended. My life is ended."

"I'm sorry," Emma blurted out, unable to hold back any more. "I'm so sorry for what happened that day. I didn't know Lily was going to do that. I didn't know she was that … unhinged And had I known, had I been there, I would have tried to stop her. When I saw," she swallowed, "Mark, I wanted to help him. But Neal wouldn't let any of us do anything. The last time I saw him, he was still alive. But … Sorry isn't enough, is it?"

"No," Patrick said quietly. "Sorry will never be enough. Nothing will ever be enough because nothing can bring our son back."

Emma nodded her understanding at that and said no more. Neither did anyone else. August and Ruby waited for a moment but when the conversation didn't naturally restart, August spoke, taking on his role as mediator in their meeting.

"Patrick, Rita, Lisa, is there anything you want to ask Emma?"

Another long pause and then Rita spoke, her voice quiet. "Did he say anything? Mark, when he was hurt, did he say anything to you?"

Emma shook her head. "By the time I saw him, he was unconscious. I'm sorry."

Rita nodded and seemed to accept the answer. Lisa seemed less convinced.

"Where were you?"

"Pardon?"

"When my husband was shot, where were you?"

"In another room," Emma replied. "Only Lily was in the main part of the bank. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't have left her alone. I knew she was flighty but I had no idea how unpredictable she was."

"Do you think you could have stopped her?" Patrick asked.

Emma considered the question for a moment. "I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe. I wish I could have. I regret every single day what happened in the bank. I regret walking inside at all." Except for meeting Regina, her brain unhelpfully supplied. She pushed the thought out of her mind and continued. "If I could turn back time, I would never have gone in. I might not have been responsible directly for what happened to Mark but I carry the guilt with me. Lily was my friend; I brought her into the group. It's my fault, I suppose, if you trace it back that far. And while testifying against her was hard, I know she deserves her prison time. The fact that she'll be locked up is hardly compensation for your loss. But I hope you feel some element of closure knowing she's paying for what she did."

"And what about you?" Lisa asked. "Are you paying?"

"I'm locked up in here," Emma pointed out. "And I'm doing this program. I know what I did was wrong. I know I've made mistakes and I'm working really hard to try and turn my life around."

"So you get a second chance and Mark doesn't?" Lisa's eyes were red with crying by now.

"I don't deserve it," Emma agreed. "I think everyone in this room can agree that Mark was a better person that I am. But I'm trying. I want to be better. I want to become a productive member of society. I had a crummy start to life and while that isn't an excuse, I'm committed to making a change. What happened that day was terrible and I will carry the weight of my involvement for all of my life. But I want to learn from it, learn from my mistakes and become a better version of myself."

Mark's family said nothing. Emma could feel her gut clench uncomfortably, wondering what the next question would be. But none came. There was nothing more to say, on either side. After almost thirty seconds, Ruby steered the conversation towards the end of the session. And then they were gone, disappearing back into the corridor and leaving Emma and Ruby alone. As soon as the door clicked closed, Emma let out a whoosh of breath.

"Are you ok?" Ruby asked, reaching out and patting Emma's shoulder.

"I think so. That was intense, right?"

"Yes," Ruby nodded. "You did really well. I'm very proud of you."

"Really?" No adult had ever said those words to Emma before and, despite the situation, she felt a little glimmer of warmth deep inside her.

"You owned your mistakes," Ruby continued. "You accepted responsibility, perhaps more than you actually ought to, might I add. And you gave a grieving family the chance to get some answers. It's going to take some time for both sides but this is part of the healing process. Be patient with yourself, Emma. Eventually, the weight of this will lift."

"Do I deserve that? Do I deserve to move on and be happy?"

"Of course you do, sweetie. Everyone deserves to be happy."

Emma wanted to believe that. And sometimes she did. When she was with Regina, for example, she could foresee some sort of future where the darkness of that day didn't follow her. But there were other times, like when she lay awake late into the night, where she couldn't stop the thoughts chasing around her mind, the regrets, the mistakes, the guilt. Would she ever be able to let go of that?

* * *

Regina was used to dress shopping for her mother's charity events. It was an obligation, Cora insisted, for Regina to attend. And therefore, once every few months, she found herself in a boutique shop with an overeager sales assistant trying on the latest designs. It wasn't her idea of a fun night out but given her family, she was unable to wriggle out of the invitations. Luckily, she was usually permitted to drag Zelena along too which made the evenings far more bearable.

"What do you think?" Regina asked, stepping out of the changing room and spreading her arms wide.

"Nope," Zelena said at once, glancing up from her cell for just a second to cast an appraising eye over her best friend.

"Why not?"

"Too 2018," came the response.

Regina sighed but retreated back into the small space and drew the curtain before trying on the next dress which they had selected as an option. Zelena had already found the dress she wanted to wear and was now somewhat patiently helping Regina make her choice. She slipped into a black, knee-length dress next and twisted around to try and reach the zip.

"Zee, can you zip me up?" Regina asked, backing out of the cubicle towards her friend. Zelena got to her feet and completed the request. "Thanks," Regina said, turning around. "What do you – Mrs Gold."

"Good afternoon Regina," Milah Gold said, standing frozen in the doorway to the changing room area beside a shopping assistant whose arms were laden with dresses.

"Um, hi," Regina said. "How are you?"

Worst question ever? The brunette mused, kicking herself the moment the words were out of her mouth. How was the woman supposed to be? Her son had been shot dead by the police only a few months earlier. Unsurprisingly, the woman ignored the question.

"I've been meaning to call you. Robert too. We wanted to apologise for … our son."

Zelena let out a quiet 'oooh,' as she realised who the woman was. Regina and Milah both ignored her.

"No, you don't need to apologise," Regina said, her manners kicking in even if there had been no etiquette lesson which quite encompassed this scenario.

"Of course I do," Milah said, crossing the space and cupping Regina's face in her hands. "Look at what he did to you."

Regina froze, feeling Milah's eyes on the white scar which trailed down from below her nose and sliced through her upper lip.

"Regina, my darling, I am so sorry. For this, for everything that happened that day. You have no idea how bad Robert and I feel. We'll never forgive ourselves for what Neal did."

"No, Mrs Gold," Regina said, reaching up and placing her hands over Milah's and gently puling them away but keeping them clasped in her own. "You don't need to apologise for anything. What happened that day was Neal's fault and no one else. But, that said, I am sorry for your loss."

Dark brown eyes sparkled. "It's for the best," she said, the words catching in her throat. "The Neal who was in the bank that day wasn't our son. I don't know what had happened in those seven years when he was lost to us but he changed. We didn't raise our son to be like that but we also can't wash our hands of his mistakes. Regina, please, tell your parents I'm sorry, Robert also."

"Mrs Gold, please, it's ok."

Milah shook her head. "It's not ok, Regina. Nothing about what happened that day was ok."

"No, it wasn't but I don't blame you. Neither do my parents. Neal was a grown man. He made those choices on his own. You can't take responsibility for that."

"Well, it's easier to say that than to action it. I'll always be responsible for my son. That's what it means to be a parent. And when something like this happens, you're always going to wonder if it was because of something you did, or didn't do. So yes, Regina, I do need to apologise. And please, tell your parents for me."

"You should call them yourself," Regina offered gently. "I'm sure they'd like to speak with you. They're your friends."

"I doubt that very much, dear," Milah said. "Not after what Neal did to you."

"Call them," Regina said, a little more firmly. "They care about you and Robert. They don't blame you for that day, just like I don't."

Milah looked as if she didn't believe Regina but wanted to end the conversation so she nodded shortly. "You look beautiful," she offered, taking in what Regina was wearing.

"Thank you," the brunette smiled. "It's for the education charity gala next week. Mom is on the board so I have to go."

Milah's face fell. "Oh, you're going to that? Your parents too?"

Glancing past Milah to where the shop assistant was loitering, pretending not to be listening to the conversation, Regina put two and two together. "You're dress shopping for the same event?"

"I was," Milah nodded. "But I don't think we'll go now."

"No, don't be silly. Of course you can come. You should come. It's a great cause, after all. And I'm sure my parents would be disappointed if you chose not to attend because of … recent events."

Milah hesitated. "Maybe," she conceded. "I'll talk to Robert. It'll depend on him too. I'm not sure either of us are ready to face society yet. I only suggested we go to this gala because I thought your mother wasn't involved."

"She's newly appointed. This is her first year," Regina explained. "But you don't need to avoid my parents. Nor anyone else. Come, have a good time, see your friends."

"Maybe," Milah repeated. "Thank you, Regina. You've been incredibly gracious. I don't deserve this kindness."

"Yes, you do," Regina said softly. "Stop being so hard on yourself."

Milah offered a watery smile. "Right, well, I'll leave you and your friend," she turned and acknowledged Zelena's presence for the first time, "to finish your shopping. I suppose I've got a dress to choose."

"Lovely to see you, Milah. I'll look forward to seeing you again at the gala next week."

Milah nodded once before beckoning the assistant to follow her further into the changing rooms until she found an empty cubicle.

"Was that -"

"Unzip me?" Regina said loudly before Zelena could say anything inappropriate within earshot of Milah Gold. "Let's pay for this and then go for lunch. What are you feeling for food? How about sushi?"

Zelena, for once in her life, got the hint and unzipped Regina before sitting down to wait in silence until her friend re-emerged, dressed in her own clothes with the chosen gown slung over her forearm.

"Right, sushi," Regina said. "Let's go."

It wasn't until they were sat down over lunch that Regina finally filled Zelena in on all the gossip she knew about Neal and his parents. Zelena listened with awe until Regina had finished.

"Oh my God you were so nice to her!" Zelena exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, it's not her fault. Just like it wasn't Emma's fault that she was given up for adoption and then most of her foster parents were crappy. We can't choose our families, right? Neal had two loving parents and yes, his dad made a mistake but that doesn't justify what he did in the bank. Milah shouldn't feel guilty for what happened."

"And you really think your parents would want to hear from them? Would want them to come to this gala?"

"Yeah, I do," Regina nodded. "Daddy is close to Mr Gold. And Mr Gold was very protective of me that day. Actually, I haven't spoken to him since. Maybe I should call him. Offer my condolences. I know my parents have done that."

"You want to say sorry for your loss for that scumbag's death?" Zelena asked, astounded.

"He didn't deserve to die," Regina said quietly.

"Yeah, he did. For what he did to you, he deserved that and so much more. If the cops hadn't shot him, I would have."

Regina barked out a laugh. "Yeah, cos you know how to use a gun."

"I'd learn, for you."

"Aw, how sweet. You're such a good friend."

Zelena grinned widely. "Yep. I'm awesome. Anyway, can we order, this awesome friend of yours is starving."

* * *

Life in Storybrooke Juvenile Centre carried on, the rhythms and schedules now predictable and easy. Emma and MM spent most of their free time together and the blonde realised she was glad to have a friend in there. Already she was wondering what she would do once MM was released, months before she herself would be transferred to the adult prison. In addition to her classes, during which she applied herself as much as possible, she also attended weekly group and individual counselling sessions. And it was in one of these with Ruby that she remembered a conversation she and MM had had about future careers.

"Is there anything else you want to talk about?" Ruby asked after they had finished running through their schedule for the day's meeting.

"Um, I have one question," Emma nodded. "It's not really about me."

"Well, ask it and I'll let you know if I can answer," Ruby encouraged. She wanted all of the teens who visited her to feel comfortable enough in her presence to talk about any subject.

"How did you get this job?"

Ruby frowned slightly. "Excuse me?"

"As a counsellor, I mean. What did you do? Do you have a college degree? How did you train and lear what to do?"

"Emma, you know these conversations are about you, not me, right?" Ruby said, closing the file she had been making notes in and folding her arms.

"Yeah, I know," Emma replied. "I'm just curious, I guess."

Ruby had attended countless training sessions which pertained to building a respected barrier between herself and her patients, including not sharing too much personal information. She had constructed a persona which enabled her to share details of her life to develop a connection with the teens whom she counselled without oversharing. For example, she freely mentioned that she had a wife but never divulged her name. She would never mention which borough she lived in but would reference her home. When it came to her education, she would discuss, if necessary, the academic qualifications she had achieved but never where she had attended school.

"I have a Bachelor's degree in psychology," Ruby said after a moment. "And I did a Masters in counselling psychology."

"So, college and then more college, right?"

"Pretty much," Ruby nodded. "May I ask why you're curious?"

Emma shrugged. "Just thinking. You know, future stuff."

"Future stuff?"

The blonde nodded and said nothing more. She didn't want to voice her idea, not to Ruby. Surely the counsellor would think it laughable that someone locked up in juvie wanted to help other kids who had made similar, criminal mistakes.

"Emma?" the counsellor said gently, waiting for Emma to meet her gaze. "Are you interested in pursuing a career as a counsellor?"

"I dunno," Emma said defensively. "MM said something. But it's a stupid idea, right? I mean, even if I could get into college and find the money to finish a degree and go to post grad school, it's not like any prison or juvie centre would ever hire anyone with a criminal record. I'm just going to be a pot washer for the rest of my life, aren't I?"

"Woah, Emma," Ruby said, seeing the blonde getting more and more agitated. "No, what are you talking about? You have options, opportunities. You don't have to write yourself off so suddenly. And as for becoming a counsellor, I think it's a fantastic idea."

"You do?"

Ruby smiled kindly. "You'd be amazing as a counsellor. And if that's something you're genuinely interested in, I'd like to help you pursue that dream."

"You think I could do it? I mean, you really think I could have a job where I could help kids like me?"

"I think you'd be an ideal candidate to do exactly that," Ruby nodded. "If you like, next week, we can look together at some of the training options and start putting together a plan for your future."

"Really?" Emma asked, suddenly brightening.

"Truly," Ruby nodded. "But right now, we're out of time. We can get started in our next session. Thinking about your future and options after Storybrooke is an important part of coming to terms with your past actions and putting a plan in place to make sure you don't make the same mistakes again."

"Ok, thanks Ruby," Emma grinned, feeling more optimistic than she had in weeks.

"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow for your session with Regina, right?"

If possible, Emma grinned even more widely at the realisation that she'd get to see the brunette in less than twenty four hours. Ruby couldn't help but smile broadly back as Emma turned and all but skipped out of the counsellor's office.


	35. The Guilt

A/N: Hi lovelies. I apologise for the missed chapter on Wednesday. Life got in the way. But I hope this 4000+ word chapter makes up for it! It's 100% our ladies.

* * *

As soon as August opened the door to the room in which Emma was waiting, Regina rushed forwards. The nerves she had felt before their first meeting for the Restorative Justice Program had been eclipsed entirely and this time she was solely excited to see the blonde again.

Emma was still getting to her feet when Regina barrelled into her, throwing her arms around the taller woman and pressing herself tightly against her.

"Woah, hey there," Emma chuckled, hugging Regina as she staggered backwards, trying to keep them upright.

"I missed you," Regina said, moving away just slightly and kissing Emma's lips, quick and firm. "I missed you."

"Yeah, I missed you too," Emma said, sealing their mouths together once more. At once, Regina's lips parted, her tongue snaking out to meet Emma's, tasting the younger woman and feeling the hot muscle slide against her own. Emma's fingers drifted down to Regina's waist and wrapped gently yet firmly around the older teen's delicate curves. Regina moved a little nearer, pressing herself against the taller girl and letting out a little sigh. The noise caused a tingling low in Emma's belly and her grip tightened against the shorter woman, pulling her impossibly closer.

"Ok, guys, let's keep this PG," Ruby said. She had averted her eyes from the embrace as soon as she realised what was happening but at the sound of Regina's moan, she decided it was time to take back control of the meeting. She and August might not be trying to stymie their romance but it was quite another to allow the girls free reign.

Emma and Regina broke apart, obedient but disappointed. Still, however, their arms were wrapped around one another. A grin spread over Emma's face when she took in the sight of the flushed cheeks of Regina's upturned face.

"Hi," she smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to Regina's lips before uncurling her arms and stepping back.

"Hi," Regina replied, walking around to the far side of the table where August was now sitting as Emma sank into the seat she had occupied before. "So, um, what do we have to talk about today?"

"Well, as you both know, Ruby and I have been very accommodating of your … relationship," August began, smiling as he looked between the two teens, "and we've agreed to keep these meetings going for as long as it takes for you to discuss the events in the bank that day in as much detail as you wish."

"Yes, and both Emma and I are very grateful for that," Regina said, turning to the senior case coordinator. "We realise that this isn't exactly normal."

"To put it lightly," Ruby chuckled. "But we're happy to do it. Neither of us can see any issue will allowing you to spend time together and as long as you comply with the program, in between making out," she winked at Emma who turned fuchsia, "we'll be happy to organise RJP sessions once a month for as long as you need or as long as Emma is at Storybrooke."

"Thank you," Regina smiled.

August nodded his head in acknowledgement. "However, we will have to organise that family session sooner or later."

"Oh yeah, your parents want to meet me," Emma remembered. "Um, do they know about … us?"

"Sort of," Regina nodded. "I mean, not everything but they're aware we have feelings for one another."

Emma grimaced. "God, they must hate me even more now than they did the day we met."

"Possibly," Regina agreed. "But can we not talk about them yet? Let's cross that bridge when we come to it."

"I don't think there is a bridge strong enough to carry me over that fiery pit of lava but ok," Emma agreed. "So, I guess we continue from where we got to last time?" She shot a quizzical look at Ruby who nodded so she carried on. "Ok, so after I … tied you up, Neal came in and then he took Mr Gold to the vault and I stayed with you."

"Yes," Regina nodded. "You sat opposite me holding the gun."

"It wasn't loaded," Emma reminded her.

"I know that now but I didn't then. It was terrifying. As far as I was concerned, I had been left alone with someone who had orders to kill me if I moved or did anything which interfered with their plans."

Emma squirmed. "Yeah, I suppose that's right. But you must know I would never have done anything to hurt you."

"I know that now," Regina pointed out.

"Yes, but I wouldn't have hurt you," Emma repeated.

"But I didn't know that."

"I think what Regina is trying to say," August interjected, "is that she now recognises your true nature and knows you would never mean to cause her harm. However, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss how both of you felt at the time of these events. And Emma, I know it's hard to hear, but Regina was afraid of you in that moment."

Emma hung her head, a physical representation of the shame she felt; the shame she often felt when she thought of what she had done to Regina. It was an emotion she would never be free of. No matter how many meetings they had nor how many counsellors she saw, the blonde would always, and rightly, be ashamed of what happened that day. Even if Regina forgave her, Emma would never be able to forgive herself.

"I'm sorry," Emma offered quietly. "I don't know what else to say."

"That's all you need to say," Regina replied.

There was a silence as all four people in the room took stock of the conversation so far. Regina was content to move on from discussing the weapon already and she knew Emma was reluctant to talk much about it. The fact that it had never been loaded was a point she regularly wanted to make but she now seemed to be realising that for the hostages, that little detail was irrelevant because they didn't know. As far as they were concerned, it was a loaded firearm and Emma was willing to use it.

"Why did you start talking to me?"

"Pardon?" Regina asked, raising her head from where she had been staring at her hands to look at Emma.

"You started talking. You told me your name and asked me mine. Why?"

"I … I don't know," Regina admitted. "You accused me of gathering information for the police, if I remember correctly."

Emma smirked. "Yeah, I think you could say I was a little suspicious that day."

"I suppose you had good reason. But if you were suspicious of me, why did you tell me your name?"

At the memory of how quickly she had given up her name, Emma blushed. "I don't know. Neal told all of us not to use our first names. We went by initials, remember?" Regina nodded that she did. "But when you asked me, I guess I couldn't help but tell you. I mean, you're so beautiful and I think the realisation of what we had done hit me. We had this plan but it was abstract, you know? And then suddenly we were there with real people and Neal was marching his own father off at gunpoint, not that I knew their relationship then. Still, I guess I was rattled."

"You and me both," Regina remarked. "But how could you not have known there were going to be people in a bank on a Friday afternoon?"

Emma shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I guess we did. Neal sure as hell knew. But it's different to talking through a plan while sat in a park to actually doing it, you know?"

"I suppose," Regina nodded. "And I know it wasn't your plan but you still did agree to be involved in it. You knew what it entailed."

"I know," Emma muttered, casting her gaze downwards. "It was a mistake."

Regina sighed and reached across the table. She tapped her fingers lightly against the wood and waggled them until Emma looked up and, after a moment, slid her hand forwards to meet Regina's.

"Sweetie, I'm not blaming you. I'm just asking questions so I can better understand what you were thinking before that day. I know everything changed for you once we met, once things went sideways in there. But I'm just curious to know about how you shifted from someone who was involved in a plan to the girl I started to fall in love with. You told me your name, you started talking to me, you protected me. Something changed, and I'm curious to know what it was."

"You and me both," Emma shrugged. "I can't really explain it. You're right, I was a different person when I walked into that bank to the one who spoke to you. And then when I found out about Neal's father, I think that was another big turning point for me. And you … yeah, you changed me too."

"I've always thought being the reason a partner changed was a bad thing."

Emma squeezed Regina's fingers which were threaded through her own. "Not with us. You changed me for the better. Bit by bit that day, I went from someone so desperate that they'd commit a felony crime and traumatise innocent people to someone who would do anything to keep you safe. I guess it all started when you told me your name."

"And you really didn't know who I was?"

Emma shrugged. "I'm not up on my New York socialites."

"Hey, I'm more than a socialite," Regina scolded, feigning offence. "But you know I liked that you didn't know who I was? All my life I've been the daughter of Henry Mills and I love my father but for once it was nice for someone to see me, not my family, not my money."

"Well, Neal saw your family and your money," Emma pointed out. "And your status is probably the only reason I made it out of that bank alive."

"For which I am grateful every day," Regina smiled softly. Emma returned the grin. "So, we told each other our names, I asked if you had a plan which, I think we both now know was Neal's plan. But then I asked what you wanted from me and you said nothing. That was when I realised you didn't know who I was."

"You thought the bank robbery was about you?"

Regina nodded. "Self-centred much? But yes, I did. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time the daughter of a high-profile businessman had been kidnapped for ransom."

"True but why go to a bank to do that? Wouldn't it be easier to snatch you off the street?"

Carefully plucked eyebrows raised. "Planning your next crime?" The words were said jokingly enough but Emma bit her lip.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. It was stupid. I wasn't thinking."

"No, you're right. There are easier places I suppose. But in that moment, I did think I was the target. You know, my father made me go to self-defence classes when I first started going out in the city without my parents. He was paranoid I would be at risk from something like that."

"You know self defence?" Emma asked.

"A bit."

"You didn't use it on me," Emma pointed out.

"You were holding a gun."

Once again, Emma sobered at the bluntness of the words. Of course Regina hadn't tried to fight her when she tied her up. For all she knew, the blonde was carrying a loaded weapon.

"I'm sorry," Emma said once more. How many sorrys would be enough? There was no answer to that question. The best they could hope for was to deal with their past and move forwards.

There was a pause, neither teen quite knowing where to go next in their conversation. After a moment, August spoke, stepping in to prompt them both in line with the restorative justice program expectations.

"So Regina, we've heard about what happened and how you felt. Emma, could you perhaps tell Regina what was going through your mind during that time?"

"I mean, I was scared shitless," Emma shrugged. "Sorry for the language but it pretty accurately explains how I felt. I think I realised what we'd done and that our plan to walk in, get the money and walk out wasn't going to happen. And then Neal disappeared with Mr Gold and I was left with Regina. She wasn't part of the plan and I suddenly realised that she was an innocent person who might get hurt by what we were doing. I know it sounds crazy that I didn't think of this before but seeing Regina's face and how scared she was seemed to somehow bring reality home. Plus, the fact that you're so beautiful kinda threw me."

Regina looked dopily at the blonde who was grinning at her. "You're beautiful too."

"I'm not but thanks. Anyway, you didn't know that. I had the ski mask on for half the time. I mean, you must have been so scared to be there with someone in a mask. I was scared but I was also in control, I guess. At least I knew who everyone was and vaguely knew what we had planned, even if Neal hadn't told us everything."

"Yeah, it was scary," Regina nodded. "But even before you took off your mask, I could tell you were young."

"How?"

"I dunno," Regina replied. "The way you moved. The way you spoke. What you were wearing. Your hair was sticking out of the bottom of the ski mask too."

"My hair and clothes should have just told you I was homeless," Emma replied dryly.

Regina said nothing. In truth, she had presumed that whomever was wearing the ski mask was sleeping rough. The grimy tendrils, the ripped and stained clothes. Oh, and the fact that they were robbing a bank. What other crime screamed such desperation?

"Well, I gave up with the ski mask eventually," Emma sighed. "It was so itchy and hot."

"And you took my breath away," Regina said simply. "Even after everything that had happened already, seeing your face changed the way I saw you as a person but I already knew you were different to the rest of your group. The text from Zelena and your anger at my privilege. It's not new to me but you seemed so hateful in that moment. Then I tried to make a Siri call to my father and then 911. I realised you were not completely on board with your friends when you found out about the call but didn't tell Neal. I want to talk more about that by the way. That's why I asked you to keep me safe when we walked to the front of the bank. And then when I was talking to Daddy and Neal got angry and … my lip." Her fingers drifted up to touch the healed skin.

Emma's eyes locked on the damage which the butt of Neal's gun had done to Regina's face. Her heart clenched, the guilt overwhelming her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I wish I could have stopped him."

"Yeah, me too," Regina replied. "But he would have hurt you if you'd got in the way."

"Better you than me," Emma shrugged. "I deserved it. You didn't. And I promised you I wouldn't let him hurt you."

"You tried."

"And failed. I'll never forgive myself for that. Every time I see that scar I'll think -"

"No, Emma," Regina interrupted. "No, you can't think like that. If you and I have a chance at being together properly in the future, you can't be thinking about how you failed to protect me from Neal. I mean, that's no way to live your life, right? If looking at me reminds you of that day, then what are we even doing here?"

"Don't I remind you of that day?" Emma shot back. "Are you honestly telling me that you don't think about the fact that you were held hostage in a bank every time we're together."

"No, I don't. Why, is that what you think of when you see me?"

Emma looked down into her lap and pulled her fingers away from where they had been clasped in Regina's. "I mean, yeah, sort of," she admitted. "Not all the time but mostly. Perhaps it's because we only spend time together here talking about that day or in court but I can't help thinking about how we met and how I hurt you and how my so called friends were responsible for the worst day of your life."

"That wasn't the worst day of my life," Regina replied quietly.

Unable to stop herself, Emma looked up. Green eyes scanned the earnest face before her. "It wasn't?"

"I mean, it wasn't the best for many reasons but I don't care about all of that. I met you that day, Emma. And yes, the circumstances weren't great but I don't regret it. Just like I don't think you should regret your actions that day."

August and Ruby glanced at one another. Silently, they both agreed not to interfere with wherever the conversation was going. The RJP was supposed to be about victim and offender coming together and having an honest, frank discussion. They were just there to mediate and guide if challenges arose. For now, they trusted the two teens.

Emma frowned. "You're saying you're glad I decided to rob a bank?"

"Stupid, right? And obviously I'm not glad you got convicted and are serving time but I'm glad we met. It wasn't exactly the fairytale circumstances I dreamed of meeting my first love but I can still be glad it happened. I don't regret going to the bank that day, Emma."

"Regina," Emma began after a few moments of stunned silence, "I do regret it. I will always regret that day and I believe I should regret it. I mean, yes, I met you and you've changed my life but is whatever we share worth the pain and upset that day caused? We might be working towards some sort of happiness but what about the rest of the hostages? What about Mark?"

"Who's Mark?"

"The man who was killed," Emma said quietly. "I met with his family last week. It was awful. Their lives have been ruined. Regina, I am always going to regret what happened that day, even if it did mean I met you. The damage I caused is so much greater than whatever positive has come into our lives. Can you understand that? Can you accept that I will never come to terms with my actions? It will always be something I regret and hold guilt over. And that's ok. Ruby and I talk about it a lot." She glanced sideways at her counsellor and offered a grateful smile. The fact that she was able to have this conversation showed how far she had come since arriving at Storybrooke. "I made a mistake and I'm learning from it but I'm not going to write it off as something in my past and get over it. That day is a part of who I am and I have to take responsibility for it."

Regina looked intently at the blonde, trying to process the words. It wasn't exactly a surprise, she supposed, to hear how Emma felt. But in her mind, the two of them had gotten past the trauma of that day and were ready to move forwards in their relationship. She hadn't considered, however, that Emma was dealing with a lot more guilt as she faced many other victims from that day. It was one thing to meet with Regina, someone who had forgiven her and fallen in love with her. It was quite another to meet with the widow of a victim and sit and listen to the impact that day had on a grieving family.

"I'm sorry," Regina said quietly. "I didn't mean to in any way belittle the emotions you have about what happened. I know this meeting program is supposed to help us understand one another but I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how you feel, or certainly not relate to it. But I can accept your position. What you said makes sense and it was selfish of me to try and persuade you to forget about everyone else. I just want us to be happy, Emma, and I can't imagine how that can be the case if we always have the bank haunting us."

This time it was Emma who reached out to Regina. "It won't always be there," the blonde said, tangling her fingers with Regina's. "With time, we'll both come to terms with what happened. And I feel differently about that day when I'm with you compared to when I'm with another one of the victims. We can get past it, I'm sure. But I'm never going to be glad for what happened just because I met you. The pain I caused so many people isn't written off because we found each other."

"So, I'll always remind you of the other people who were there that day?"

"No," Emma replied, "but I will always carry that guilt. I'm not saying I can't be happy with you but I do think it would be stupid for us to think it is going to be easy. And, let's face it, your scar is a constant reminder." Regina's free hand drifted up to trace the skin once more. Emma reached out and pulled her hand down however. "You're still beautiful," she murmured. "So beautiful. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

The two women fell silent, their hands clasped in the middle of the table. Ruby glanced at her watch and saw they were almost at the end of the meeting.

"Right, girls, that was very good. I feel like the two of you are making great progress. The communication is important both for the two of you coming to terms with what happened that day but, let's face it, your future relationship. Are there any final comments either of you would like to make?"

Regina shook her head. Emma hesitated. "Well, I mean, you realise we skipped over quite a bit. The fact that you called 911 but I didn't tell Neal and then the phone call with your father and then what you said to me, asking me to keep you safe."

But the brunette just waved her hand dismissively. "I don't think I have enough emotional energy to get into all of that now. Next time, right? Plus I think we've kinda ended on a positive."

Emma couldn't help but smile. "Ok, then I guess we're done for this week. Month, actually. That's how often these meetings are going to be, right?" she said, turning to Ruby for clarification.

"Yes," Ruby nodded. "The next one will be in early January. As far as I'm concerned, I'm happy to keep going. August?"

"Yep, fine by me," August nodded, gathering up the files on which he had been making some notes during the meeting. "I've got to disappear now actually. I have an appointment in Brooklyn. Ruby, are you ok to finish off without me?"

"Sure," Ruby nodded.

August expressed his thanks and got to his feet. Saying goodbye to both teens, he picked up the paperwork and slipped it all into his briefcase before heading out of the room. Ruby returned her focus to the girls and clarified, for the purpose of the program, that they were both happy to meet again in four weeks' time. Of course, Regina and Emma both nodded enthusiastically, all the while thinking about how far away the meeting already sounded.

And then they were standing, preparing to part. Ruby headed towards the door, focusing on her papers she needed to file. Regina circled around to Emma's side of the table and wrapped her arms around, holding her tightly. Emma lay her head on Regina's shoulder, breathing in the now familiar scent of the brunette. She smelled vaguely sweet, with just a hint of apples.

"Oh, I got you something," Regina said as she pulled away.

"You got me something?" Emma frowned. "Why?"

"Well, I don't have it here with me. Security checks, you know. But Ruby said she'd personally deliver it to you before Christmas."

"Christmas?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's the beginning of December now so I won't see you until the new year."

"You got me a Christmas present?" Emma asked, dumbfounded. She couldn't remember the last time she had received a Christmas present. The foster family she had been with before she ran away only gave gifts to the younger children.

Regina could see the mix of emotions flash across the blonde's face. "Yes, sweetie. I got you a Christmas present. I only wish I could be there to watch you open it. But we'll just have to save that for next year."

The talk of their future bypassed Emma in that moment. She was too overwhelmed with Regina's simple act of generosity. "Thank you," Emma said, placing a gentle kiss to Regina's lips. "And I'm sorry but I didn't get you anything."

"Oh, that's ok. I didn't expect anything from you. It's not like you could have walked down Fifth and bought me something."

Emma grinned. "True. How about I make it up to you next year?" There was that future talk again.

"Deal," Regina smiled back.

"Um, girls, I'm sorry to break this up but we really have to leave. The people who have booked this room next are waiting outside," Ruby said, after poking her head around the door and out into the corridor beyond.

Regina sighed and nodded her understanding. Emma pouted. "I'll see you in a month," she said, kissing the pout in the hope that it might perk Emma up.

"Yeah, I guess. Merry Christmas. Thanks for my present."

"You're welcome. I love you."

"I love you too," Emma said, kissing Regina one more time before unwinding her arms and stepping back.

With a final smile, Regina turned and walked from the room, August by her side. Emma watched the teen march down the corridor. At the end, she paused and turned, shooting a brief smile over her shoulder before disappearing from view. Emma let out a deep sigh before joining Ruby in the doorway and the two of them vacated the room together.

* * *

A/N: enjoy the rest of your Sunday! I have all the remaining chapters already mapped out in my mind … It should be all wrapped up by 40 chapters as promised!


	36. The Parents

A/N: Happy Wednesday peeps

* * *

The car was silent. Regina thought it felt longer than all previous trips. Her father was looking at his phone, presumably checking his work emails which were always never-ending. Her mother was gazing out of the window, watching the streets of an unfamiliar neighbourhood glide by. Regina was just looking forwards, waiting for a glimpse of the familiar entrance.

"We'll be finished by two, right?" her father asked suddenly, looking up from his cell.

"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" Regina replied.

"My four o'clock wants to reschedule," Henry said, eyes already glued back on the screen as he confirmed the change in appointment with his assistant.

Regina couldn't help but feel resentful at the man's impatience. Her parents had been the ones to request the meeting with Emma, so the least they could do was give her time to speak with them and open up an honest dialogue about those events. Now, however, it seemed as if her father was eager to get back to the office as soon as possible.

"Henry, we need to commit to this," Cora said after a moment's pause. It was evident her thoughts had gone to the same place as her daughter's. "We're supposed to be entering this meeting with an open mind and offering Emma the chance to tell her side, right? If you're already thinking about getting back to discussing business, you're not going to be listening. This is for us as much as it is for Emma, and Regina," she added as an afterthought.

The man hesitated for a moment before locking his phone and sliding it into his pocket. "Sorry," he offered. "I didn't mean to lose focus. It's just that this investor is -"

"Henry," Cora interrupted. "No more business talk, ok? Let's just focus on this meeting."

"We're here," Regina said as the gates which led to Storybrooke Juvenile Centre came into view.

The car's occupants fell silent as the driver pulled the Rolls Royce forwards and parked in the nearest available space. Fitzgerald hopped out and rushed to open the door for Henry and Cora but Regina, impatient as always, climbed out without waiting into the frozen January air. It had been over a month since she had last been to visit Emma and they had decided their next RJP appointment would be with the brunette's parents rather than just the two of them. Already Regina was desperate to hug Emma but knew she had to refrain. Her parents knew she had feelings for the incarcerated teen but they weren't aware that there was an sort of physical relationship between them.

"Ready?" she asked after her mother had finished buttoning up her thick coat and wrapping the cashmere scarf carefully around her slender neck.

"Let's go," Cora smiled, nodding at her daughter to lead the way into the complex.

* * *

"Nervous?" Ruby asked.

"Huh?" Emma said, eyes still fixed on the closed door of the meeting room.

"Are you nervous?" the counsellor repeated. "I mean, from what I can tell, you're usually excited about seeing Regina."

"Yeah, well, of course I want to see Regina again," Emma said, fingers running backwards and forwards over the thin silver band which encircled her wrist. "But it's not just Regina who's going to walk through those doors. I mean, even if I wasn't trying to date their daughter, these people are entitled to hate me, right? What are they going to say? What are they going to ask?"

Ruby didn't answer. She knew Emma didn't expect her to. The point of the Restorative Justice Program was to offer an environment in which both sides of a criminal event could talk. And, of course, it was impossible for either side to speculate as to what the other was going to say. Family meetings were also different to more traditional meetings between victim and offender because the impact of the event on the family as a whole could be discussed. All she could do was be there for Emma and provide support and assistance if required.

"Are they here yet?" Emma asked.

"I don't know," Ruby replied. "But it's almost the time of the meeting. I doubt someone like Henry Mills is often late."

"Yeah, true," Emma nodded, gaze unwavering from the door of the meeting room.

And then, quite suddenly, it opened. Emma shot to her feet, the chair she had been sat on clattering onto the floor behind her. Cora Mills' eyebrows rose. Emma blushed bright red and stooped to pick up the fallen object.

"Sorry," she muttered, righting the chair. "Um, hi Mrs Mills, Mr Mills."

"Hello, Emma," Cora said, moving further into the room, followed closely by Henry then August. Bringing up the rear was Regina.

At the sight of the brunette, every fibre in Emma's body screamed at her to run towards the teen. She wanted desperately to hold Regina in her arms again, kiss those slightly smiling lips, feel the woman pressed against her. But instead of Regina moving towards Emma, as she usually did, the older girl followed her parents to the far side of the table where August was pulling out chairs for Mr and Mrs Mills. Emma remained standing, waiting until they were all comfortable before sinking back down to her own seat.

"Welcome," Ruby smiled. "I'm Ruby, Emma's counsellor here at Storybrooke. It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"Likewise," Cora smiled.

"Thank you for coming here today," Ruby continued. "This is an important part of Emma's ongoing rehabilitation progress and personal development. Having the opportunity to talk with people who have been affected by her actions is key to Emma recognising the damage and taking steps to make sure she doesn't make the same mistakes in the future. In addition to speaking with individuals like Regina who are directly affected, the RJP allows Emma the chance to speak with the wider community and understand the far-reaching consequences of that day."

"We understand," Henry said, a little tersely.

Ruby hesitated before forcing a smile. "Great, ok, well I'm sure you've had some meetings with August about this already. Typically we invite the family to begin. Emma will listen and then you'll have the opportunity to ask questions and open up a dialogue. Does that sound ok?"

"Yes," Cora nodded. "Um, do we begin now?" She glanced sideways at August who nodded his encouragement. "Ok, well, I suppose there are two main things we want to talk about. One is the fact that Henry and I were there that day. We were outside the bank, at the airfield. This isn't just something that happened to our daughter, we also experienced the trauma of watching everything unfold. And then we'd also like to speak a bit about how that day has affected Regina."

At that, Regina, whose deep brown eyes had been focused solely on Emma until that moment, snapped to her mother. "What?"

"We'll get to it, dear," Cora placated. "Henry, would you like to tell Emma what happened when you found out about Regina?"

There was a pause before the man nodded. Clearing his throat, the man clasped his hands on the table in front of him before he began.

"I was in my office when I found out. My friend called me and told me something had happened to Regina. She's my only daughter, you know. It's every father's worst nightmare for anything bad to happen to their little girl. My mind jumped to the worst case scenario and I assumed she had been killed. If I hadn't been sat down at the time, I'm sure I would have fainted. But she wasn't dead; she was in danger. She was being held hostage. I made my way to the bank as fast as possible but those minutes have never felt slower.

"It was the lack of information which was the hardest though. Even when we were there, stood outside, we had no idea of what was happening. Of course my instinct was to do everything in my power to protect Regina but I knew I couldn't do any more than the police were already doing. We just stood there, waiting. Hearing bits come through over the radio but really we were in the dark. So while I was immensely grateful that the Regina was still alive, we were in a sort of suspended state, knowing that at any moment, that might change and there was nothing we could do about it. As a father, that powerlessness was … unimaginably painful."

Regina reached over and placed her palm over her father's hands, a silent reminder that she was ok, that she had survived. Beneath her skin, she could feel the man trembling slightly. After a moment's silence, Cora continued.

"For me, it was even worse when we could see Regina with you in the alley. We were watching from the top of a police truck. We watched as our daughter walked backwards and forwards four times from the bank to the car with a gun held to her head."

"Mine wasn't loaded," Emma burst out, unable to stop herself.

Henry's eyes narrowed. "I don't care," he seethed. "You still used my daughter as a human shield to protect yourself against a team of the finest snipers in the world. What if one of them had taken a shot and missed?"

Emma hung her head. It was a scenario she had considered many times herself and the consequences didn't bear thinking about. She knew there was no defence for what she had done that day and the way in which she had used Regina. Only she and the brunette now biting her lip, clearly trying to stop herself saying something, knew the truth of what had happened before, during and after that ordeal.

"Like Henry said," Cora continued, "watching our daughter in a dangerous situation without being able to do anything was horrific. But at least we knew she was alive. And then you all drove off and we were left behind. We insisted on following you to the airfield. Whatever happened, we knew we had to be there, to be as close to our only daughter as possible. That's a sensation which has been hard to shake. Not being with Regina, allowing her go about her day to day life once more has been a challenge for me. I know I can't wrap her in cotton wool but I certainly feel like I want to."

"We hired bodyguards," Henry replied. "So that this can't happen again."

"You have bodyguards?" Emma asked Regina. That hadn't come up in any of their meetings.

"Yes," Regina nodded shortly.

"Oh," Emma said. She and Regina hadn't yet got to the point where they talked about what had happened after the bank. Clearly, there were a number of changes in the brunette's life which could be attributed to that day.

"We'll always worry," Cora said. "We always did. Every parent does. But now, we will be jumping to the worst case scenario when Regina is even a few minutes late home."

"Mom, I'm an adult," Regina sighed.

"Yes, but after what happened, we're always going to be wondering whether it has happened again."

"Lightning doesn't strike twice," Regina shot back.

"Anyway," August jumped in, "perhaps this is a conversation for you as a family. Cora, Henry, is there anything more you want to tell Emma about how you felt that day when you were at the bank or the airfield?"

"The airfield was worse for me," Henry said. "By the time we arrived, the shots had already been fired. We had no idea of exactly what had happened, who was hurt but we had been told Regina was safe. But we couldn't see her where. Everything in me wanted to run to our jet but Sidney wouldn't let me. I had to wait, it wasn't safe, he said. But in that moment, the last thing I cared about was my own safety."

"May I speak?" Emma said quietly. "It's related to that."

Cora and Henry both turned to look at August who made a shrug as if to say 'it's your call.'

"Ok," Henry nodded, returning his critical gaze to Emma.

"I felt the same way," the blonde admitted. "When Neal was killed, I was in the car alone. As soon as I heard the gunshots, I jumped out and ran up into the plane. I didn't care what I was about to find. I didn't care that it was obvious someone was shooting. All I could think was that I had to make sure Regina was ok. Even once I was arrested, I didn't care because I had seen Regina, I knew she was alive. As far as I was concerned, nothing else mattered. I had stopped caring what happened to me probably months before that day. But by the time we got to that airfield, the only thing I wanted was to make sure Regina was safe."

The Mills listened closely to Emma but both looked sceptical. More than that, Henry looked angry.

"Regina says she cares about you," Cora said after a moment.

"I care about her too," Emma replied, unable to stop herself flashing a smile in the direction of the brunette. Regina was positively beaming at her. "Regina is very special."

"Yes, she is," Henry bit out. "And she deserves the world."

"I know," Emma said soberly. "I'm sure you never imagined someone like me would fall in love with your daughter, Mr and Mrs Mills. It's not like I had planned it. And it's scary, to be honest. You want your daughter to be with someone who can give her the world and that's not me. But I can promise to try my hardest to never ever hurt her and to keep her safe and to make her happy."

"You … you love her?" Cora asked. She had had an inkling of the strength of her daughter's feelings for Emma but had no idea the teens had discussed it. Judging by the look on Regina's face, however, the words spoken by Emma were not a new revelation.

"I do," Emma nodded.

"And I love Emma," Regina piped up. "We know it's not going to be easy but we're working hard to try and make a go of what's between us."

"Working? Is this what you guys talk about in your meetings?" Henry asked, eyes now snapped to August. "Are you facilitating this?"

"No, Sir," August said at once. "But Ruby and I are aware of the girls' relationship. We're not encouraging it, nor are we leaving them alone together. However, when they talk during these meetings, elements of that day do come up in the context of their feelings and Ruby and I have decided to allow them to talk honestly. After all, that is what the meetings are designed to do."

"Matchmake?" Henry asked in mild disbelief.

"No, Sir," Ruby said. "And I do believe that Regina and Emma had already realised how they felt before these meetings began."

"We realised that day, Daddy," Regina said quietly. "I didn't put a label on it then but what I feel for Emma started that day, for sure."

"Me too," Emma said. "And I am eternally grateful for that. If I hadn't met Regina, I don't think I would have walked out of that bank alive."

"Do you think you deserve to?"

Tears sprang quite suddenly to Emma's eyes as the words cut deep; deeper than she anticipated. It wasn't as if she hadn't questioned her own self-worth over the past months but to hear it from Henry's lips hurt.

"Daddy," Regina gasped. "Don't say that. You shouldn't say that about anyone let alone the woman I love."

"Henry," Cora continued. "That was uncalled for."

With reluctance, Henry nodded. "You're right. I apologise, Emma. I don't mean that. But it is hard for me to come to terms with everything you and Regina have just said."

"Daddy, you must have known. Haven't you noticed how happy I am after each meeting I have with Emma?"

Henry looked at his daughter, trying to recall. It was true, he realised. His daughter had indeed appeared to be upbeat and enthusiastic whenever she discussed her meetings with Emma. But love? She was only eighteen. The two of them had hardly spent any time together. What did she know about love?

"Princess, you're just a child. I don't think you know what you feel. And I'm not going to let you throw your life away for this girl," Henry said, reaching for his daughter's hand.

"Throw my life away?" Regina spat. "Daddy, Emma isn't making me throw my life away. Just because I love her, doesn't mean I'm not going to achieve our dreams. I haven't changed my plans when it comes to college or anything like that. I'll still go to Yale, I'll still work for you. All that's happened is that I've found someone whom I'm crazy about. And yes, we know we're young and we're not stupid; it's not exactly a normal way to start a relationship. But we are also old enough and smart enough to know how we feel. I don't know what the future holds for us and I know it isn't going to be easy but right now, Emma makes me happy and I make her happy. Can you accept that?"

There was a pause, during which Cora reached out under the table and rested her palm of Henry's thigh. The woman herself was smiling reassuringly over her husband's shoulder at her daughter.

"You know the only thing I want in the world is for you to be happy, Princess," Henry said eventually.

"I know, Daddy. And right now, Emma makes me happy."

Regina turned to smile at Emma who had been watching the interaction apprehensively. She knew that no matter what Regina said, her father's approval was important to her and, fundamentally, would affect the future of their relationship. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, therefore, when Henry spoke next.

"Ok, I'll try to accept … the two of you."

Regina reached up and threw her arms around her father's neck, whispering "thank you," into his ear as she hugged him tightly. Henry held her close, wondering as he did so when his little girl had grown into a young woman.

"Ok, well, I think we're close to running out of time today," August said when father and daughter broke apart. "Does anyone else have anything they want to say?"

"Yes, I would," Cora said. August nodded at her for her to continue. "The only thing I would like to add is that since that day, I think Henry and I expected a bigger change in Regina. Or perhaps a more negative change. But as far as I can see, the only part of her which has changed is her heart and how she feels about you. Emma, I think I knew before Regina how she felt although I won't say I was particularly thrilled. Henry and I may not understand it yet because we don't know you but we trust Regina and her judgement. That day was traumatic for all of us. The bodyguards are our way of trying to keep Regina safe but we'll always continue to worry. And I know Regina is still processing what she went through but I have to say that I think we must be grateful for you because at least something positive has emerged."

Emma was stunned for a moment at the kindness and acceptance she had been shown. "Um, thank you," she stuttered after a moment. "I regret everything that happened that day but I'm pleased to hear that Regina is happy."

"I am," Regina piped up. "Because of you."

"I think that's the perfect spot to leave this meeting," Ruby said, smiling at the look of happiness on both teens' faces. "Does anyone else have anything they want to add?"

All three Mills shook their head, as did Emma. Ruby and August between them concluded the meeting and then the scraping of chairs announced everyone getting to their feet.

"Regina," Emma said as the teen's parents shrugged on their coats. "I've got something for you."

With a glance at her parents, Regina made her way to Emma's side of the table. The urge to throw herself into the blonde's arms was overwhelming but she resisted. Instead, she took the envelope which Emma held out to her.

"What's this?" Regina asked.

"A belated Christmas present," Emma said. "Thank you for mine, by the way." She held up her wrist so Regina could see the charm bracelet there, a swan dangling from it and glinting in the light.

"Did you like it?" Regina asked, reaching out and touching the tiny bird. The fact that her fingers grazed over the patch of skin exactly where Emma had first touched her did not go unnoticed by either woman.

"It's beautiful, thank you," Emma nodded with a soft smile. "I'm sorry, I kinda had to make yours."

Regina raised her eyebrows and went to open the envelope but Emma's fingers stopped her.

"Wait until you get home," Emma said quietly.

The brunette nodded her understanding and then, with a final look into Emma's bright green eyes, she turned and walked to her parents who were standing by the door.

"Goodbye Emma," Cora said. "I hope the last few months in here go well and I suspect we'll see you again come autumn."

"Thank you, Mrs Mills," Emma said. "Thank you both," she added, "for coming today. It means a lot to me."

"Take care, Emma," Henry said before opening the door and ushering his family out.


	37. The Source

A/N: Happy Sunday! I'm throwing in some angst because these girls have had it too easy, right?

* * *

Emma hugged the shorter woman tightly, feeling the burn of tears threatening her eyes. But she couldn't cry, not here. She didn't want to appear weak and emotional. Even in juvie, that wasn't something you wanted to be perceived as.

"Good luck," she said, pulling away and forcing a smile on her face.

"Thanks," MM grinned at her, picking up the small bag of possessions she owned and swinging it onto her shoulder. "I'll be fine. It's not the first time I'm getting a new foster family. Plus, I'll be eighteen in no time and then I can finally live life on my terms."

"Legal terms, right?" Ruby added, hovering beside the girls as they said their goodbyes.

"Sure," MM nodded, plastering a solemn look across her features. Emma didn't buy it and nor did Ruby but neither said anything. The teen had served her time and there was nothing more the system could do until she landed herself back inside. "Well, I guess I'm outta here."

"I'm going to miss you," Emma said, the tears now making her eyes glisten. "Thank you for being such a good mate."

"You too. And good luck with your girlfriend. I wanna hear how that crazy love story works out."

"You and me both," Emma replied, stuffing her hands in her pockets. It was over two weeks since Regina and her parents had come to visit and she still had two more weeks to go before she would see the brunette again.

Behind them, an electronic buzzer sounded and the door to the reception area of the juvenile centre opened. "Right, it's time to go," Ruby said.

"Freedom!" MM cheered, giving Emma one more brief hug before she darted out through the door, followed closely by Ruby.

Emma watched as the door closed behind her one close friend in the centre. Sure, she got on with the other girls but she hadn't developed any sort of meaningful connections. MM was the only one who knew about Regina and therefore could talk to Emma about her new relationship and the complexities of navigating it not only while inside but also with their history. Now MM was gone, she had no one except Ruby. Sure, she could talk to the counsellor but it wasn't the same. It was Ruby's job to listen to Emma and she wasn't her peer. It was different with MM and the confidant was one she had grown to value.

After a few moments, Emma turned and headed back down the corridor towards her bunk. Climbing up to the top, she flopped down onto her mattress and let out a low sigh. And then frowned. Rolling over, she pulled out the item which had been jabbing her in the back. She couldn't help but smile as she saw a jumbo bag of MM's favourite candies poking out from beneath her sheets. A final parting gift, she supposed. Ripping the pack open, Emma lay back down and chewed, her thoughts drifting, as they so often did, to Regina.

* * *

Regina was not a morning person. But this particular day, her alarm went off sooner than she could bear. It felt as if she had only just laid her head on her pillow after studying late into the night for a test the following day. Groaning, she shut off the shrill noise and rolled out of bed, shuffling into the bathroom and going through the motions, a little slower than usual. She had been cramming for the test until close to three in the morning and four hours sleep was not enough. She perked up a bit, however, when she remembered that she had her next meeting with Emma the following afternoon.

Once she was showered, dressed and with a light layer of make-up applied, she grabbed her cell, notebooks and school bag and trudged down the stairs. Despite her mother's protests that she needed a proper breakfast, the teen just grabbed a slice of toast from the rack and kissed her on the cheek before heading out of the house. If she got to school early, she and Zelena could do a last-minute cramming session and ace the paper. As the door closed behind her, Henry appeared out of his home office, an iPad gripped in his hand.

"Was that Regina?" he asked his wife.

"Yes, why?" Cora replied, holding out the man's coffee.

Instead of answering, Henry passed over the tablet he was holding, a grim look on his face.

Just as Regina pulled her car out of the garage, both Henry and Cora burst into the underground parking area, but the teen didn't see them as she slid the vehicle into drive and set off towards school. Seconds later, her cell vibrated in her bag. Regina glanced at it but when she saw it was a call, she ignored it. Her driving school had shown her horror movies of what happened when people drove while using their cell phones. She did not want to be irresponsible.

By the time she got to the school gates, her father had called her twice more and sent a text. But before she had a chance to even unbuckle her seatbelt, Zelena's face appeared pressed up against the window right beside her. She chuckled as her friend distorted her features comically, squashed against the glass and then waggled her fingers to indicate that the redhead should step back so she could get out of the car.

"Hi Zee," Regina said as she climbed out. "Ready for this test?"

"Nope," Zelena said. "But who needs education when you can draw like this?" She pulled out a carefully rolled piece of thick paper from her bag and unfurled it.

"Wow," Regina said, taking in the striking pencil sketch. "That's incredible, Zee. You've really got that shading down. It's a beautiful portrait of your mom. Have you shown her?"

"Thanks," Zelena grinned, rolling it back up and placing it gently back in her bag. "And no, I haven't. It's for my portfolio. I need to submit it next month."

"Have you told your parents about this plan?"

Zelena shook her head and looped her arm through Regina's as the two of them set off towards the school building. "I'll wait until I'm accepted first."

"So, does that mean you didn't study at all for this English Lit paper?"

"Nah," Zelena replied. "I'll quiz you though, not that you'll need help, Little Miss Brainbox. Um … why is everyone looking at us? Did I forget to put clothes on again?"

Ignoring her friend's joke, Regina looked at the groups of students they were passing and noticed that everyone indeed was staring at them. She glared back at a few and they averted their eyes but as they moved into the building and towards the classroom, the looks kept coming.

"Seriously, what the fuck? What's going on?"

"I have no idea," Regina muttered as she and Zelena reached the common room. Sitting down at the first available table, Regina scanned the room and watched as curious eyes suddenly darted away from her, pretended they hadn't been staring.

"What's your problem?" Zelena snapped at a passing group of boys from the year below. Their acne-riddled skin turned bright red and the scuttled away. Zelena chuckled but Regina was unamused.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to say something, her cell vibrated in her bag. Remembering the missed calls from her father, she scrambled to answer it. "Daddy?" she whispered. "What's going on?"

"Regina, Princess. Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine. But everyone here is staring at me and Zelena. Has something happened?"

There was a pause. "Um, look, there's something you need to see. I've sent you the link in a message."

"What is it?"

"Just read it, Princess. I can't explain. But if you want to come home or talk, call me. I'm working from home today and your mother is here also. We love you, sweetheart, ok?"

"Daddy, you're scaring me," Regina said, lowering her voice still further to avoid anyone but Zelena overhearing.

"Please, Regina, just read what I've sent you."

The line went dead. It was the first time ever that her father had hung up on her. Regina looked at the homescreen for several seconds before clicking on the message icon and navigating to the conversation with her father where a link had been sent. The headline turned her stomach to lead. Zelena peered over her shoulder as they began to read.

 ** _Mills Daughter Tricked Into Love For Reduced Sentence._**

 _You do the crime, you do the time, right? Not if you can trick a billionaire's daughter into falling in love with you, discovers Emma Swan, seventeen. After committing a felony crime back in August 2018, Swan managed to wriggle out of what should have been a twenty-five-year sentence, getting away with just a two year stint, and parole available after just twelve short months._

 _Swan, a product of the country's underfunded foster system, was involved in the New York Gold Capital armed robbery last summer, during which one civilian lost his life and the gang leader was killed during a police shooting. Regina Mills, daughter of tech mogul, Henry Mills, was in the bank at the time and taken hostage. Swan and three others kidnapped Mills and used her and her family's position as a bargaining chip in a botched attempt to flee the country on the Mills' private jet._

 _Rather than being charged with armed robbery, Swan managed to secure a sweet deal of only two years for second degree kidnapping. How? By using the services of the Mills family lawyer, Miss Tina Bell. A source close to Swan confirms the teenage convict manipulated traumatised Regina Mills to provide her with world class representation for a crime she herself was a victim of. Not only that but Mills, as was previously reported in this publication, acted as a character witness for Swan at the sentencing, where the judge handed down a paltry two-year sentence for a crime which usually carries a bid of no less than five years. Our top psychiatric specialist confirms that Mills is suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, having been brainwashed by Swan during the traumatic bank robbery._

 _Mills, eighteen, has been to visit Swan in a juvenile detention centre numerous times since the sentence was passed and believes the two of them to be in a loving relationship. The source tells us of how Miss Mills has bestowed gifts upon Swan, including a Pandora charm bracelet with a customised diamond encrusted swan charm, valued at over $1500._

 _While Mills is smitten, Swan does not return the teenager's affections, a source from inside the juvenile centre where Swan is serving her sentence confirms. "It's a means to an end," the source told us. "Emma is just pretending to be in love with Regina because she wants to get out of there. As soon as she's free, she'll disappear. And thanks to Regina, she'll be able to sell that bracelet have the cash to do so."_

 _Swan is due to be transferred into the adult prison system in July where she will serve the remaining two or fourteen months of her sentence, depending on whether she is granted parole. Upon her release into the public, our source speculates that she will go back to her old ways. "It's hard to break habits, especially when you've got no other option," says the source who was convicted of shoplifting._

 _Recidivism rates among juvenile offenders are far higher than adults, with 78% reoffending within three years and 84% within five. With those odds stacked against her, and evidence of her manipulative edge, the future is looking as almost as bleak for Emma Swan as it does for lovesick Regina Mills. We were unable to reach Mills herself for a comment._

"Oh my god," Zelena breathed out as she came to the end of the article.

Regina stared at the brightly lit screen for several seconds, her brain struggling to process and her heart pounding. Then she stood up abruptly and stalked from the room, the eyes of everyone in the common area watching her go. Zelena gathered up the brunette's bag and hurried after her but by the time she reached the corridor, Regina had disappeared.

* * *

A knock on the classroom door drew the attention of every teenager, vaguely attemting to focus on their studies. The teacher paused and walked over to open it, revealing Ruby. The counsellor's presence was not uncommon in their classes.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt. Can I speak to Emma, please?"

The teacher nodded and Emma got to her feet. "Um, should I leave my stuff or am I going to be gone a while?"

"Leave it, this won't take long," Ruby said.

Emma nodded and crossed the room. Ruby pulled the door closed behind them and turned to the teen who was leaning against the wall.

"What's up?"

"Two things. First, there's something you need to see." In her hands, Emma noticed, was a piece of paper.

"What is it?"

"An article," Ruby replied. "A newspaper article, actually. And I guess that leads me onto the second thing."

The woman was looking at her with pity, Emma suddenly realised. She folded her arms defensively. "What's going on?"

"August just called. Regina has cancelled your meeting tomorrow. And this is why."

She held out the sheet of paper and Emma took it. Her eyes immediately were drawn to the picture of Regina, presumably at some sort of fancy event with her parents, judging by the cocktail dress. Her gaze then slid over to the bold title of the article. Her breath hitched.

"What?" she gasped.

"I'm sorry," Ruby replied. "I don't believe it, if that's any consolation. But it mentions a source. And judging from the fact that Regina has cancelled tomorrow's meeting, she may think there's some truth behind this."

Emma was already scanning the article, a knot in her stomach tightening the further she read. "What? Where are they getting this? What source? I don't … MM."

"That's the only person I could think of too," Ruby nodded. "Did she know about you and Regina?"

"Yes, but she knew I loved her. I talked about how much I loved Regina all the time. I never said any of this stuff. This is bullshit!"

Ruby didn't even scold her for the curse word. "She probably got paid for talking to the press."

"And that justifies this?"

"No, but it explains it," Ruby replied.

"No it doesn't. MM was supposed to be my friend. And forget about me, how the hell does Regina feel about this? Jesus, she read this? She cancelled our meeting? Does … does that mean she believes this?"

"Emma, no, I'm sure she doesn't. I've seen the two of you together. You can't fake feelings like that. Regina knows the truth. I'm sure she just needs some time."

"I have to talk to her," Emma said, scrunching the article up into a ball. "Please, can you -"

"No," Ruby replied at once. "I can't do that I'm afraid. You know I would if I could."

Emma hung her head. It wasn't as if she really believed Ruby was going to allow her to make a phone call to Regina but she was desperate enough to ask anyway. "Um, fine, ok, what if I wrote her a letter. Could you get that to her?"

"I could talk with August. But it would be Regina's choice as to whether she wanted to receive the letter."

"Yes, of course," Emma nodded at once. "But I need to tell her this is all lies. I need her to know I love her. And that I'm going to fucking kill MM when I get out of here."

"Um, let's cool it with the death threats around the counsellor who works for the prison system," Ruby said, patting Emma on the shoulder. "Not that I don't think she deserves it. This is a betrayal of your friendship and has also hurt an innocent third party. I'm very disappointed in her."

"Yeah, well, tell her foster parents to ground her for eternity," Emma growled.

"We can't. She ran away three nights ago. No one knows where she is."

"With the pay-out from this story, she'll have bussed out of the city and disappeared."

"Probably," Ruby nodded. "Look, I've got to go and meet with someone. Are you going to be ok?"

"No," Emma sighed. "But I'm better than Regina, right? At least I know the truth. She's thinking I don't love her. I'll write a letter and have it for you by the end of the day. Can you promise you'll try and get it to her?"

"I'll do my best," Ruby nodded. "Finish this class and then you can take an hour off to do what you need to do."

Kill MM is what I need to do, Emma thought to herself as she turned the handle and slid back into her class. The teacher was still discussing the different ways in which tectonic plate movement could trigger tsunamis. She sat down and faced the front of the class, although her thoughts were anywhere but on geography.

* * *

The door slammed hard behind her and she sprinted up the stairs to her bedroom before her parents had even entered the foyer. As Mr and Mrs Mills hurried through at the sound, the door to the garage opened for a second time and Zelena appeared.

"Hey," the redhead said. "Um, is Regina here?"

The bang of the door from the next floor directed three sets of eyes upwards. The trio hurried up the stairs and along the corridor. With a glance at the teen's parents, Zelena knocked on the door.

"Go away," came the choked response.

"Regina, babe, it's Zee. Your mom and dad are here too. Are you ok?"

"No." The voice was now muffled, as if pressed into a pillow.

After a moment, Zelena turned the handle and poked her head around the door. "Hey," she said softly as she saw Regina, lying face down on her bed.

"I don't want to talk about it, Zee," Regina sobbed.

"Ok, then let's not talk about it," Zelena said, crossing the room and moving to lie on the far side of the bed. Henry and Cora followed, hovering by the door. "Um, you wanna talk about Taylor Swift's new album?"

"Why, is she pretending to be in love with me too?" Regina scoffed.

"Regina, sweetie, do you really believe that article?" Cora asked.

Rolling onto her side, Regina glared at her parents. "I'm sure you two do. You never wanted me and Emma to be together in the first place. You must be so happy it's all fake."

"No, Princess, we're not happy," Henry said, moving to sit beside his daughter and patting her thigh. "We're not happy at all."

"And we don't think the article is true," Cora added, crouching down beside Regina and stroking the hair away from the tearstained face. "Regina, we saw the way Emma looked at you, the way you looked at her. Nothing about that was pretend. I don't know where the article came from or who that source was, but we don't believe it. Do you?"

"I … I don't know," Regina admitted, dissolving into tears again. "I mean, why would they print it if it wasn't true?"

"Well, I don't want to quote our beloved president but have you heard of fake news?" Zelena asked. "They printed that bullshit about you having Stockholm, right? This is clearly just more crap made up to sell papers. I know I've never met Emma but from everything you've told me, what you guys have is the real deal. I mean, if it was true, why keep the charade up this long? The sentence has been passed. She wouldn't need you any more. And why would she have written you that poem if she didn't love you?"

"What poem?" Henry and Cora said in unison.

Regina reached under her pillow and pulled out the carefully folded piece of paper which she had kept there since she received it. She had read it so often she knew it by heart. As her parents began to read, she wriggled under her bed covers and curled herself around the soft linen, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

 ** _You Remind Me_**

 _You remind me of a home,_

 _A place I've never known._

 _A space of love and safety,_

 _Somewhere to call my own._

 _You remind me to be better,_

 _Than who I've been so far._

 _I'm working hard to change,_

 _To reach your higher bar._

 _You remind me to be kind,_

 _And forgive others' mistakes._

 _But when people hurt you,_

 _My heart, for you, it aches._

 _You remind me of my past,_

 _A girl I no longer want to be._

 _But I'm serving time for that,_

 _And soon I will be free._

 _You remind me of my future,_

 _The unknown, scary road._

 _But with you right here beside me,_

 _We'll together share the load._

 _You remind me of love,_

 _My heart is full for you._

 _And soon we'll be together,_

 _I know it to be true._

 _For RM_

 _Love ES_

"Regina," Cora said quietly, when she had finished reading. "Emma loves you very much."

"Really?" Regina sniffed. "You don't think she's using me?"

"Not at all. And I don't know why you would ever have believed that after everything you two have been through. Remember how Emma makes you feel?" Cora waited for Regina to nod before continuing. "That's real, sweetheart. You can't fake that. If you want to find out where this article came from, talk to her about it tomorrow. I'm sure she'll be just as upset as you are to read it."

"I cancelled tomorrow," Regina admitted, reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose.

"What?" Henry frowned.

"As soon as I read the article, I called August. I couldn't bear the thought of meeting with Emma and seeing her if it was true."

"Then perhaps you'd better call him back and rearrange," Henry said quietly.

Regina sat up and reached for her phone. But before she started to look for the case worker's number, she paused. "You guys want me to meet with Emma? Does this mean you're ok with us dating?"

Cora and Henry shared a look. "We just want you to be happy, Princess. And until today, everything we've seen when it comes to you and Emma aside from the day you met has made you happy. And judging by how upset you were when you thought your relationship wasn't real, we can tell how much she means to you. We never want to see you like this again. Call August. Set up that meeting again and talk to Emma. I might not have understood it or been happy about it when you first told me, but I hate seeing you so upset. Go tomorrow; I am sure she will be able to tell you the truth about how much she loves you."

A watery smile broke over Regina's face. "You think?"

"I know," Henry nodded, pulling his daughter into his arms.

* * *

Her hand flew furiously across the paper, line after line of barely legible script pouring out. She didn't hear the knock on her open bedroom door.

"Emma?"

"What?" she asked over her shoulder, recognising her counsellor's voice.

"Woah, that's a long letter," Ruby said, taking in the five sheets already filled with the scratchy black words.

"Yeah, and? What did you want?"

"Oh, right," Ruby said, ignoring the snappy tone as she was reminded of why she was seeking out the blonde teen. "I just got a call from August. Regina wants to meet tomorrow."

Emma stopped writing and turned slowly in her chair. "Um, what?"

"Yeah, she spoke to August half an hour ago and he called me to see if we could still do it. I said yes, I assumed you'd want to?"

"Yes, of course but why did she change her mind?"

Ruby shrugged. "That's something you need to ask her. But it looks like you're going to be able to say all these things to Regina face to face."

She pointed to the letter. Emma nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Although, you know, it's easier to write stuff like feelings down sometimes."

"True," Ruby smiled. "Perhaps you should finish your letter and then you can decide if you want to give it to her tomorrow."

Emma turned back to the paper and paused for a moment before picking up the discarded pen and beginning to write again. Ruby watched for a moment before backing quietly out of the room.

* * *

A/N: I've not written poetry since I was about 14 …


	38. The Future

A/N: Thanks for the poem love … but I'm still going to stick to fiction writing.

* * *

If Emma thought she was nervous the first time she was waiting to meet Regina, it was nothing compared to how she felt the following afternoon. Any questions which Ruby had presented went unanswered as the blonde stared, almost without blinking at the door. The five minutes they were alone in the room before Regina and August arrived felt like an eternity. But at last, the door handle turned.

"Regina," Emma said at once, getting to her feet and rushing towards the door, intending to gather the woman in her arms. At the sight of the brunette's pale face, however, she stopped dead. "Um, hi."

"Hi," Regina replied, her voice quiet and monotone.

"Let's sit down," August said after a moment, his hand in the small of Regina's back gently guiding her forwards. But the teenager didn't move. Instead, she fixed her gaze directly on Emma and asked the question which had been eating her alive since the previous morning.

"Is it true?"

"No," Emma gasped almost before the words were out of the brunette's mouth. "No, Regina. Not a word of it. God, you don't believe any of that article, do you?"

"I … I don't know," Regina admitted.

Emma stepped further forwards so less than two feet separated them. August glanced at Ruby who signalled to him that they should let the girls talk without interfering. It wasn't directly related to the RJP but without this conversation, nothing else could be discussed openly, perhaps ever again.

"Regina, I love you," Emma said, slow and sincere as August moved away from them and towards the table where Ruby still sat. "I've never felt like this about anyone before and it's big and scary but it's also exciting and makes me look forward to my future for the first time ever. That article was all lies. I said none of that stuff. I would never use you like that, never."

"Where did it come from? The article mentioned a source? Whoever it was knew about us, knew about the Christmas present I gave you." Regina's eyes dropped to Emma's wrist skinny where she could see the bracelet and charm in question.

Emma sighed. "We think it was my former bunkmate. She got released a couple of weeks ago. I talked to her about you but I never said anything like what she said to the press. I told her how much I loved you, a lot. She used to tease me with how in love I was. We'd talk about our relationship and our future in the evenings. She even read the poem I wrote you. She knew the truth about how I felt but I guess that wasn't what the press was willing to pay money for. Regina, please, you have to believe me. I love you, please tell me you believe that."

Wide brown eyes scanned Emma's pleading face. She could see the desperation there, mingled with fear that perhaps whatever was between them was about to disappear forever. At the thought of that, Regina's heart clenched. She didn't want to lose Emma. She didn't want to destroy what they had. "I know," she said eventually. "I believe you."

Emma let out a trembling breath. "Oh, thank God. Regina, thank you. I'm so sorry. For what MM said to the press, for everything you've been through, I'm so sorry."

She held out her arms and, after a moment, Regina collapsed into them, a fresh wave of tears, this time of relief, flooding down her cheeks. Emma cried too, as she felt the pain and anguish of the brunette coupled with her own fears.

"I love you so much," Emma whispered into Regina's ear. "I'm sorry this happened."

"I love you too," Regina replied. "And I'm sorry for doubting you, for doubting us."

"It's ok," Emma assured her. "I mean, that article was evil and crazy but I understand."

"No," Regina said, pulling away. "It's not ok, Emma. I'm sorry. I should never have believed a word of it. I was tired and stressed with school work and I just took what I read to be true without thinking. I should have known the truth. I know you, I feel what you feel when you're with me because it's what I feel when I'm with you. The truth is when we're together and I shouldn't have let myself believe anything else."

"You don't need to apologise," Emma soothed. "I do. It's all my fault. I trusted the wrong girl and, in doing so, you got hurt."

"You're not responsible for what your so-called friend did," Regina pointed out.

"I feel responsible," Emma growled. "I hate that she hurt you."

Regina reached up and cupped Emma's face, her thumbs stroking over the soft skin of her cheeks. "I'm ok," she promised. "We're ok. And do you want to know a good thing which came out of this?" Emma nodded. "It was my mom and dad who persuaded me to reschedule our meeting today after I cancelled it when I first read the article. They said they wanted me to be happy and that you make me happy. I think they're coming around."

"Really?" Emma asked, a grin cracking her face.

"Yes," Regina nodded. "And I'm sorry for cancelling in the first place. I was super tired and then when I read the article, the first thought was that I didn't want to see you, so I called August. Which is crazy because the first thought I have every morning is how much I do want to see you."

"Me too," Emma said. "Actually, it's my main thought for ninety percent of every day. You know you make studying really hard, right?"

Regina chuckled. "Yeah, you do too."

Unable to hold back any longer, Regina pressed her lips against Emma's. The blonde froze for a moment, as if she hadn't expected it but then she wrapped her slender arms around the shorter teen, pulling her closer and drawing their bodies flush together. Regina let Emma take control of the kiss, her tongue dominating as their lips parted. The familiar tastes and sensations alit the also familiar fire which sparked, deep in her belly whenever she touched the blonde.

Fingers drifted to Regina's hips, the tips sliding underneath her knitted sweater and resting lightly on her bare waist. The older girl's breath hitched at the feeling of warm fingertips against her skin. Emma moaned quietly as she registered the reaction but before anything more could happen, they were reminded that August and Ruby were in the room with an abrupt clearing of the man's throat.

The teens broke apart, wearing identical dopey expressions. "So, are we ok?" Emma asked, using the pad of her thumb to wipe a smudge of Regina's lipstick from the brunette's lip.

"We are," Regina replied, returning the favour and erasing the evidence of their kiss from Emma's mouth. "But I have one final thing to tell you about that article." Emma nodded and gestured for the two of them to sit down. Once Regina had taken her seat, she continued. "I guess I should have known the article was all bull when I read this but my sleep-deprived and emotionally traumatised brain didn't seem to register it. So, the article talked about your bracelet, right?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded, fingers on her right hand drifting to her left wrist to finger the charm.

"Well, I'm afraid they grossly overestimated the value of that swan," Regina admitted. "Pandora discontinued their swan charm ages ago and I did look into commissioning one but I decided that something so valuable in here and then in prison was a bad idea. So … I kinda got that off Gumtree for twenty bucks."

At the confession, the brunette's cheeks burned. It was the only item she had ever bought off a second hand and exchange website in her life. Emma gaped at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Are you serious?"

Affronted, Regina frowned. "I'll buy you a nicer one when you're out."

"What? No," Emma chucked. "Regina, that's not what I want. And that's not why I'm laughing. Seriously, you could have given me a gum ball machine plastic toy and I'd have loved it because it was from you."

"So why are you laughing?" Regina asked.

"Because you're so cute to be worried about me not liking something just because of where you bought it or how much it's worth. Honestly, the value of something isn't always linked to money, especially for me."

Regina paused, head cocked. "I suppose you're right. In fact, do you want to know what my favourite Christmas present was?"

"A new car?" Emma teased, remembering that that was the reason Regina had gone to the bank that fateful day.

"No," Regina chuckled. "My favourite present was your poem. It cost nothing to make but it means more to me than anything else I own."

Sobered at the sincerity, Emma drew in a breath before replying. "Are you serious?"

"Completely," Regina nodded. "I sleep with it under my pillow. I know every line to it. When my parents read it -"

"Your parents read it?" Emma interrupted.

"Yes, and it was what made them tell me to come here today, to talk with you. Those verses are filled with more meaning and more love than anything I own. And, in case you couldn't guess, I own a lot of stuff."

"It … it wasn't even that good. I had to use a dictionary and thesaurus to help me write it," Emma blushed.

"Emma, I don't care if it's going to win poetry competitions. All I care about is that when I read those words, I can hear you saying them to me. I believe them, I believe what you're saying. And I'm sorry I ever doubted you. After everything we've been through, you deserve my loyalty."

Reaching across the table, Emma tangled her fingers with Regina's. "We're good, right?"

"Yes," Regina nodded. "We're good."

There was a moment of silence, while both teens smiled at one another.

"Ok, great, I'm glad you two have worked that out," August said. "Shall we move onto the meeting now? Because no matter how supportive your parents are, we're still going to have to do our jobs and get you talking about the bank robbery as part of the program."

"Sure," Regina nodded. "Where do we start this month? The way Emma used me as a human shield to avoid police snipers?"

The bluntness led to a pause and then four guffaws of laughter, the ridiculousness of the situation remembered all over again.

* * *

And that was how the next few months unfolded. Regina and Emma met once a month as part of the Restorative Justice Program. In each meeting they would deal with another element of that fateful day. From the time Emma used Regina as a human shield in the alley to the journey in the car where Neal held a gun on Regina. To the time when Regina ran out of the jet where she was protected by cops and back to the car in an attempt to save Emma. And then how Emma ran out of the car towards gunfire, getting herself arrested but not caring because she knew Regina was safe.

It was dramatic and emotional and painful and scary but it was also necessary. As they dissected and analysed that day, both women began to come to terms with what had happened as well as facing the way in which they had changed since that day. Beyond finding one another and falling in love, both girls were different to the two teens who had walked into that bank on a late August afternoon.

Towards the end of each meeting, the conversation veered towards their relationship. Ruby and August rarely redirected it as long as the base stemmed from the events of the day they first met. In April Regina told Emma how she had been accepted into Yale and would be moving up to New Haven in the fall. In June Emma told Regina of her plan to become a counsellor. "But I think I flunked my exams," Emma had muttered, thinking back to the difficult tests she had sat a few weeks earlier.

But she didn't. While her SAT score wasn't high enough to get her admittance to an Ivy League College like Yale, Emma was pleasantly surprised when she opened her results in July. The celebration was dampened, however, when Ruby called her into her office the next day to announce where the blonde would be moving to the following week for the remainder of her sentence.

Since MM's betrayal, Storybrooke hadn't felt much like home and Emma hadn't tried to make any more friends. It wasn't worth it. At the end of the day, she couldn't trust anyone inside. But the idea of leaving and going somewhere new where adult offenders were incarcerated was still an unpleasant one.

"Queensboro Correction Facility is minimum security and has lots of great reintegration programs," Ruby had assured her. "It's specifically designed for people like you who only have a short amount of time left to serve."

"Yeah, two months," Emma huffed. "Can't I just stay here?"

"You're going to be eighteen in three days so no, you can't."

Emma pouted and slouched down in her chair, looking much more like a stroppy teen than someone who was about to become an adult.

"Do you want some good news?" Ruby asked.

"Is there any?"

"Regina will be able to visit you whenever she wants when you move there."

At that, as expected, the blonde perked up. "Really?"

"She can come every day if visiting hours allow for it."

Emma grinned but then her smile faltered, that niggling self-doubt she had struggled with so much rearing its head. "Reckon she'll drive all the way to Long Island for me?"

"Honey, that girl would drive to Timbuktu for you."

Making a mental note to look up where Timbuktu was and if it was even possible to drive there from New York, Emma pressed on. "Will you tell her where I'm going? Can you ask August to call her and give her the details or something?"

Ruby nodded, assuring Emma that she'd put all the paperwork together first and then make sure August passed on the message so Regina knew where to find Emma. The two of them had discussed the fact that Emma was moving in their last RJP meeting but it was only now hitting Emma that she was really leaving Storybrooke.

"Um, Ruby, if you have time, can we finish that application now?" Emma asked as the counsellor finished up the transport papers which would allow Emma to move from juvie to the adult prison facility.

"Sure," Ruby nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to tell Regina about this?"

Emma shook her head. "Not until I get in. I don't want to get her hopes up."

"You'll get in," Ruby smiled, shuffling her chair over and gesturing for Emma to wheel her own around the desk so the two of them could look at the computer screen at the same time.

"Maybe," Emma shrugged. "But I'm not getting my own hopes up either. It's not like life has gone well for me so far."

"And in my opinion, you deserve some good fortune," Ruby said. "Right, where did we get to?"

* * *

A/N: ok, who can guess what Emma's applying for/where Emma's applying? Anyone to get the right answer to both questions can submit a prompt for a one-shot (it's a long time since I've done one of these!)


	39. The Prison

A/N: so many of you guys were so close with your predictions but no one got it exactly right! Anyway, onwards to the penultimate chapter – we're nearly done with these two ladies' story.

* * *

She clutched the soft bundle to her chest as she followed the guard down the corridor. Eyes cast to the floor, she focused on placing one foot in front of the other, a forced walk into the unknown.

"In here," the guard said, opening a door and ushering Emma inside.

She obeyed, finding herself in a small office and taking a seat on the far side of the desk. Behind her, a large window opened onto the corridor. Curious passers-by looked in, wondering who was new to the wing that day. The guard started filling in the paperwork, Emma obediently answering any of the questions she was posed.

"Can I keep my own clothes?" Emma asked as she was handed a blue prison issue outfit.

"If you like," the guard nodded. "But we recommend you change. Individuality isn't something most inmates strive for. Blend in. Keep your head down. And wearing these," she pointed to the pile of blue polyester, "helps make you one of the crowd."

Encouraging people to become the same as everyone else, rather than their own individual self, Emma mused. Well, that was the first difference between Storybrooke and Queensboro. Ruby had always promoted their capacity for self-expression and the ability to choose their own clothes had been an important part of that. Perhaps, for Emma, it had been even more significant after her time on the streets when clothes were found and stolen rather than chosen.

"Right, follow me," the guard said, snapping Emma out of her reverie.

The two of them walked out of the office and down the corridor. Various rooms were pointed out to her as she passed including the large canteen, out of which loud voices spilled. It was lunch time. Emma, however, wasn't hungry. She had barely eaten breakfast at Storybrooke that morning either, the nerves making her too unsettled for food.

"Um, when's visitation?" she asked.

"Weekdays between one and five. Weekends are nine until two. Slots are thirty minutes long. First come, first serve for the sittings," the guard replied. "Why? You got someone who's going to come and visit you?"

"Maybe," Emma shrugged. In truth, she had no idea whether Regina was going to visit her. At their last meeting as part of the RJP, the teen had promised to come but they had no idea where Emma was to be relocated to at that time. Now, it was all down to Ruby to get in contact with Regina and tell her where to find Emma. What if she didn't? What if Ruby didn't pass on the information to August? What if August didn't pass on the information to Regina? Or, worse, what if they did and Regina didn't come?

"This is yours," the guard said, stopping in the doorway to a cell which looked surprisingly similar to the room she had shared with MM. "You'll be on the bottom bunk. Your cellie is probably at lunch. She's nice, quiet, keeps to herself. You'll be fine."

"Thanks," Emma replied, stepping inside. "Um, can I like, make phone calls or anything?"

"Sure," the guard nodded. "Phones are available all day but there's a fifteen minute limit per call. We'll need to screen the numbers and approve them before you can make the calls. You buy credit from the commissary."

"Oh," Emma said, realisation hitting her.

"There'll be twenty bucks in there to start you off," the guard said, sensing the problem without Emma needing to voice it. "You can have someone on the outside add more."

Yeah, right, Emma thought to herself. And, she mused, it wasn't like she had a phone number for Regina anyway. She hadn't ever asked about phone calls at Storybrooke although she was confident they had the capacity to allow the juveniles to call their families. But Emma wouldn't have been allowed to call Regina due to her status as 'Emma's Victim', so she had never thought to ask for the brunette's number.

"Right, need anything else?" the guard said, clearly impatient to get on with the next task on her list.

"No, I'm good, thanks," Emma replied.

"Ok, well, good luck. And remember; head down. You'll be out of here in no time."

Emma nodded and moved further into her new bedroom, placing her small sack of possessions on the bed and sitting down beside it. Worst eighteenth birthday ever? she wondered as she kicked off her shoes and curled up on the scratchy blanket. Probably. But she didn't even have time to wallow in her own misfortune before a slight figure appeared in the doorway. Emma pushed herself into a sitting position at once.

"Hi," she said to the woman who was presumably her bunkmate.

"Hi," the young woman said, stepping into the room. "You're new?"

"Yeah," Emma replied. "I'm Emma."

"Mulan," the woman offered as she climbed up the ladder to her bunk.

Was that a first or a last name? Emma wondered. Should she have said 'Swan'? People went by their first names in Storybrooke but perhaps the television portrayal of adult prisons where everyone was known by a surname was correct.

"Swan," she added after an overly long pause.

A head appeared over the edge of the bunk, peering down at her with a frown. "What?"

"Swan," Emma repeated. "My name is Swan."

"Like the bird?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "I mean, my full name is Emma Swan."

The woman above her hesitated and then; "ok." She disappeared from view and Emma was still left wondering whether Mulan was a first or second name.

* * *

Standing at the large bay window, Regina looked out onto the sunny street beyond. It was a hot July day and the park was packed with families enjoying the warm weather. She watched as a father and son kicked a soccer back and forth, bundles of discarded clothing marking a makeshift goal through which the ball infrequently soared.

"So, Princess, what do you think?"

Regina turned to see her father and the real estate agent standing side by side, waiting expectantly. "Daddy, I told you, I'd rather stay in college accommodation for the first year. I don't need my own place and I don't need a four bedroom town house."

"Yes, but you can live here in second year," Henry pointed out. "And maybe you won't like the halls of residence."

"Daddy, we toured them last summer. They're amazing."

"Yes, but if you had this house too, then at least you can have a space which is yours so when you want to escape, you can come here. Plus, you can move in here with your friends in second year rather than having to find an apartment."

While it was true that Regina was going to need somewhere to live during the later years of her studies, she was resistant to turning up as a college freshman and the owner of a grand townhouse, a stone's throw from the campus. She wanted the full college experience and she wanted to be a part of life within the halls of residence. Her father, however, wanted to buy her a townhouse and seemed set in his determination to do so.

"So, I don't have to live here full time at first, right? You're ok with me living on campus with the other first years?"

"If that's what you want, yes," Henry replied. "But you'll have this place and you can use it whenever you want. And in second year, you and your friends can live here. That's why I thought a house would be better than an apartment, right?"

"I suppose," Regina nodded.

"And I'll get you a housekeeper and cook and -"

"Daddy, no, please," Regina interrupted. "I don't need to be looked after. I'd actually like the challenge of living independently for once.

"But -"

"No, please let me do this," Regina insisted. "If you want to make sure I have somewhere nice to live, then that's fine. I'm grateful for that, of course. But I would like to experience some normal elements of college life and that includes cooking and cleaning for myself."

"Cleaning?" Henry repeated aghast. "No, Regina, I'm getting you a cleaner at least. Especially if you're not going to be here full time in the first year. We'll need someone to come in weekly and make sure everything is ok."

"Fine," Regina acquiesced. "You can hire a cleaner but that's it."

Henry looked like he was about to argue but after a moment, nodded his head. "Ok," he said, turning to the estate agent. "We'll take it. How long until we can close?"

"I'll get the paperwork drawn up this afternoon. We can arrange a building inspection for next week."

"I have my own guy for that," Henry said. "Let me give you his details."

Regina left the two of them talking business and wandered off through the townhouse. It was a beautiful property. And while she didn't need it and was planning to spend most of her time in the halls of residence, she couldn't help but smile as she walked into the master bedroom upstairs and took in the view from the window. The iconic towers of Yale's buildings were right there, proud and majestic and surrounded by greenery. There were only a few students in the city at the time, the summer holiday having driven most of them home to their families.

Leaning on the windowsill, Regina looked for the family in the park she had been watching earlier. They were now sat on a rug, eating food from a hamper. The man was lying down, a young baby, resting on his bare chest. The mother was trying to rub more sun cream into the boy's face as the child squirmed away. She smiled at the sight. Ok, perhaps this property was a good idea. She could imagine herself living here.

With Emma, her brain supplied. The realisation hit her like a tonne of bricks. She and Emma had never discussed what was going to happen in the fall. The blonde knew Regina had her place at Yale but Emma's plans had not ever been vocalised. It was something she could ask about tomorrow when she visited, Regina mused. She allowed her mind to wander to the blonde, as it so often did, and pondered how her first day in Queensboro was going. It must be scary, she thought, to be moving to a new prison and one with women of all ages, convicted of all different crimes.

August had called the previous day to let her know of Emma's movements. Regina had wasted no time researching her visitation rights and planned to spend her Saturday morning out at the correction facility. She had been unable to get in contact with Emma to let her know but hoped the blonde would be happy about the surprise. Should she tell her about the house? About the image her mind had conjured of the two of them sitting at the breakfast bar downstairs on a Sunday morning, wrapped in silk robes, sipping coffee and planning their day in New Haven together?

"Regina!" her father called from downstairs. "We're leaving."

Standing up from the edge of the bed on which she had perched to daydream, Regina took one more look at the room before heading down towards her father.

* * *

Head down, blend in, keep your nose clean, Emma thought to herself as she walked down the corridor to breakfast on her first morning in Queensboro. Mulan had already left by the time Emma got back from showering. Not a talker, Emma had discovered. But that was ok. She only had two more months until, hopefully, her parole would be granted. She didn't need friends. She needed to get through this time and get out.

Joining the line for food, she shuffled forwards to receive her breakfast. Rubbery scrambled eggs on toast and some undercooked bacon. She poured herself a coffee and, after sipping it, added two sugars in an attempt to cover the bitterness. The result was unpleasant but palatable. Turning, she surveyed the room. Was this like television too? Were there cliques she had to avoid and tables she wasn't allowed to sit at? Better safe than sorry, she decided, heading for an empty table and sliding onto the bench.

"Swan."

She choked on the sip of coffee she had taken and spluttered as she looked up into the face of the prison guard standing beside her.

"Yes sir," she said, heart pounding.

"There's a visitor here for you. Ten am slot. You know where the visitation room is?"

"A visitor?"

"Yeah," the guard said. "End of the corridor, turn left."

Before Emma could ask any questions, the guard moved off to inform another inmate that there was a visitor waiting. Emma stared dumbfounded after the guard before returning to her forgotten breakfast and resuming eating. A visitor. Regina? Surely it was too soon. She'd only been there for one day. Would Ruby even have passed the details along? Forcing herself to finish her breakfast, she gulped down the coffee and stood up. The clock told her she had five minutes before she met her visitor. Depositing her tray along with the other dirty plates and cups, she made her way out of the dining room, down the corridor and turned left.

Already there were a number of prisoners loitering, waiting for their visitation to start. Emma leaned against the wall and stared at her feet, not wanting to engage in conversation with anyone. It wasn't long before the door was opened and the women who had been in the earlier sitting filed out after which a guard appeared with a clipboard. In a surprisingly orderly manner, the waiting women walked inside. Emma was the last to reach the guard.

"Name?" he asked, when he realised he didn't recognise her.

"Emma Swan," she replied.

He scanned the list before him, turned the page and then tapped the tip of his pen. "Yep, go on in." A tick landed next to Emma's name and the man flicked the paperwork back into place.

"Um, thanks but who is here to see me?" Emma asked.

The man frowned at her. "You weren't expecting a visitor?"

"Not exactly," Emma replied.

"Fine," the man sighed, turning back to the page where Emma's information was as if the request was a great inconvenience for him. "Um, Mills," he read. "Regina Mills."

She was here, Emma thought to herself. She had come. Ruby and August had passed on the details and Regina had come to visit her. With the guard waiting somewhat patiently at the entrance to the visitation room, Emma moved forwards.

The space beyond was larger than she expected. It was loud too, with women in blue prison uniforms sitting one to a table. Friends and family alike were scattered throughout the room and a number of children were also present. What a way to spend a Saturday, Emma mused; visiting your mother in prison. That said, Regina was giving up her Saturday morning to visit Emma. It was surely not the way the brunette was used to spending her weekend.

"Emma."

The sound of her name, said in that sexy, husky way, drew Emma's eyes to the far corner of the room. Regina was standing up, smiling shyly at her. A broad grin spread involuntarily over Emma's face and she weaved her way as fast as possible through the crowded room until she reached the brunette.

"Hey," she said, stopping short with less than a foot separating them.

"We can hug," Regina prompted. "I asked."

"Oh, thank God," Emma breathed, throwing her arms around Regina and holding her tightly. "You're really here," she murmured as Regina's arms wrapped around her.

"I really am," Regina replied, the words muffled in Emma's hair.

"Long enough, Swan," came a gruff voice.

The two broke apart to see the guard who had signed Emma into the room standing beside them, clearly having been watching their hug. Emma nodded and stepped away, gesturing that the two of them should take a seat.

"So, August told you?" Emma asked.

"Yes," Regina nodded.

"I wasn't sure you'd get the message," Emma said. "Actually, I wasn't sure you'd come."

Regina's forehead creased. "What on earth would make you think I wouldn't come? As soon as I found out where you were, I organised to come here. And I'm going to be visiting every Saturday from now on. I promise."

"Really?" Emma asked, a hint of incredulity.

"Truly," Regina replied. "Except for, well, I mean, I start college in five weeks."

"Oh," Emma said. "Yeah, I forgot about that. Yale."

"Yale," Regina nodded. "But I can come down at weekends and see you."

"No, don't worry. I'll hopefully only have three weeks left by then. I don't want you to miss out on all those fun first year events which happens. Parties and bonding and stuff."

"I don't mind," Regina insisted.

"But maybe I do," Emma replied. "I don't want you to compromise your education because of me. Especially not when you've been my inspiration."

"Inspiration? For what?"

Emma bit her lip. She hadn't planned to tell Regina yet. She wasn't going to say anything until her application had been accepted. If it was rejected, she may never have admitted her plan, embarrassed by her own optimism. But now she had to say something. "I've applied for college," she said eventually.

Regina's jaw dropped. "Seriously? At Yale?"

"No," Emma chuckled. "God, no. I'm not that bright."

The brunette suddenly realised how presumptuous she had been. Why would Emma had applied to go to the same college as her. For all she knew, Emma could have applied to a school on the west coast. She could be moving, leaving Regina and the memories of New York and starting a new life far away. "So, um, where are you applying?"

"Southern Connecticut," Emma said. "To do a BA in psychology."

"Southern Connecticut State? That's in New Haven."

Emma smiled slightly. "Yeah, it is."

"You're … you're moving to New Haven?"

"Well, I mean there are a lot of maybes before that happens. I've gotta get accepted into this course first. Then I have to get the financial aid scholarship I've applied for. Oh, and I've gotta get parole from here and then have my parole officer reassigned to a different state. I suppose that's actually the first step. Ruby says it's possible though. She's been amazing. Fighting my corner and pushing me to apply and think about my future. But I'm not there yet. If I get accepted, I can start in Spring 2020 though."

"Emma that's amazing," Regina said, smiling broadly. "I'm so proud of you."

"Don't be proud yet. I've not been accepted."

"Yes but you will be, I can feel it."

Emma couldn't help but smile too. "I hope so. I wasn't going to tell you until it was all official but … I mean, do you mind? I don't want you to feel like I'm following you or anything."

Reaching across the table, Regina grasped Emma's hand. "Honey, I'm so happy for you and for us. I wanted to ask you what your plans were and I wanted to suggest something like this but I didn't want to push. I can't believe you've done this. I mean, we're going to be together. Properly together in two months."

"No sustained contact," a guard said, passing their table and noticing their entwined fingers.

Regina shot him a scathing look but untangled herself. Emma ducked her head, not wanting to get on the wrong side of any guards.

"Well, I won't be moving up to school until January," Emma reminded her, recommencing their conversation. "If I get in, that is."

"Where will you be living before then?"

Emma shrugged. "Ruby said there are places I can stay in the city. Shelters and stuff."

"No, Emma. Come to New Haven. As soon as you're out, please."

"And sleep on the floor of your student residences?"

"Actually, Daddy bought a townhouse yesterday," Regina admitted, blushing at the absurdity of the statement given where they were sitting. So often in her life, she was surrounded by other wealthy people but sometimes her privileged status smacked her in the face. "I've told him I'll be living in college halls but he wants me to have it for second year. You can live there though."

"Regina, I can't do that," Emma protested. "It would be weird. And I couldn't pay rent. Your dad wouldn't allow it."

"It's not Daddy's house, it's mine," Regina replied. "And I do allow it. Please, Emma. Please let me help you with this. You can't stay in a shelter. If you're going to start this new chapter in your life, please let me at least provide you with somewhere safe and warm and clean to live."

Emma chewed her lip. It was an amazing offer; generous and kind and so completely Regina. But it was also a huge thing to propose; a big step forwards in their relationship.

"Can I think about it?" Emma said eventually.

The older teen looked a little disappointed but nodded. "Ok," she replied.

"Five more minutes." The announcement boomed over the heads of the visitors and prisoners alike.

"Shit, that went fast," Regina sighed.

"But at least we can actually talk now. You realise this is the first time it's been the two of us without someone listening since last September?"

"And just think, when we live together, we can be alone all the time."

"Like hermits?"

Regina laughed. "Yes, like hermits. Hermits in love."

"I'll take that," Emma grinned.

"Is that a yes to moving into my house?" Regina asked optimistically.

"It's an, 'I'll think about it, hermit'," Emma chuckled. "One step at a time, ok?"

"Ok," Regina nodded.

"Hey, can I get your phone number? I can call you in here if I add your number to my list of approved calls."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Reaching down to the floor, Regina placed a small package on the table, the paper slightly untucked. "Sorry, it was wrapped more nicely but security insisted on unwrapping it. My number is written on the gift card. They phoned it while I was being screened just to confirm it was me not some drug dealer. Anyway, happy eighteenth birthday."

Emma picked up the present which was pushed towards her and untucked the corner of the crumpled paper.

"It's not much," Regina pressed. "I didn't think it was a good idea to give you anything valuable in here. Maybe we can celebrate again when you're out in two months."

Emma pulled off the paper and grinned at what she saw. "This is awesome, thank you. The soap they give you in here is crap and I don't have money in my commissary to buy better stuff."

"It smells amazing too," Regina said, lifting the handmade bar up and making Emma inhale its scent. "Apple and cinnamon."

"Oh, that's so good. I feel like I could eat it."

Regina chuckled. "I wouldn't recommend that, but I'm glad you like it."

"It's perfect, thank you," Emma said, just as a guard shouted over the room that visitation was over.

Emma got to her feet, the soap clasped in one hand. Regina stood too, wishing she could stay longer and already looking forwards to next week. "Well, it was good to see you," she smiled. "I'll be back next Saturday."

"Thank you for coming," Emma said. "And you don't have to come every week. If it's too far or -"

"Emma, I'm coming every week," Regina interrupted. "And the day you're released, I'll be here to pick you up."

"If I get parole," Emma reminded her.

"When you get parole," Regina corrected. "Think positive, honey. Everything is going to work out for us. I can feel it."

* * *

Four stony faces gazed impassively at her as she got to her feet. Her heart pounded in her ribcage as she prepared to give what was likely to be one of the most important speeches of her life.

"I have been incarcerated for a year now," Emma began, "and I have learned a lot. I have learned that I don't want to go back to the person I was in the bank that day. And I have learned what I need to do to make sure that doesn't happen. I have a plan; a plan for a future which I hope and believe will transform me into a productive, valuable member of society.

"I have recently received an acceptance letter from Southern Connecticut State University to study psychology. This is the first step in my plan to become a counsellor for young people who have lost their way and made mistakes. I was inspired to pursue this career after spending time at Storybrooke Juvenile Centre where I worked hard to address not only the events which led to my sentencing but also how I can make sure my life never takes a turn in that direction again. My counsellor, Ruby Lucas, was instrumental in me finding a new path in life and I would love to do the same for other young people like me.

"My hope is that my personal experiences can be used as a force for good and with the right training, I will be able to help other youngsters who may be heading down the wrong path. My time here has been invaluable in teaching me the importance of good role models, a strong support system and recognising your own personal capacity and ability. I regret what I did that day, but I cannot regret the time I have spent both here and in Storybrooke because without these places, I would not be the person I am today. This time has allowed me to see a positive future for myself and to put a plan in place which I am committed to following to achieve my goals. For that I am grateful and while I will always regret the events which led me to being here, I now recognise the value which this experience has provided.

"I am ready to be a productive, law-abiding United States citizen and I am looking forward to the challenges and opportunities which lie ahead."

After a pause, Emma sat back down and waited.

* * *

A/N: I mean, there's one chapter left so I think you can guess what happens. Also, the next chapter will bump the rating of this fic up to M. I know, it's the longest I've ever gone without writing smut! But I think these ladies have waited long enough, right?


	40. The End

A/N: I can't quite believe this has finally come to an end. I've loved writing these two versions of our favourite characters but I'll gush more about that at the bottom. All you need to know now is that the rating for this chapter has finally increased to M/E (fanfic/AO3 respectively) and therefore it is a NSFW chapter!

* * *

Was it always so bright outside? Had the sky always been so blue? Was the small yard at the prison somehow filtering the sunlight and the colours? Emma stood, taking in the sensations, sights and the feeling of being free once more. Around her, the few other women who were being released strolled off towards the parking lot where friends and family were waiting to greet them. Only the clanging of the prison door behind her jolted Emma from her reverie.

Picking up a small duffel bag, containing all her possessions in the world, she swung it over her shoulder and headed after her fellows. With every step she took, the nerves grew. Regina had promised to be there to pick her up and Emma couldn't wait to see her again. But this was the first time the two of them would be together, completely alone, completely free, since the day they met. She had always been a prisoner, a convict. Regina had always been the victim. What now? How would their dynamic change?

Regina saw Emma before the blonde spotted her. She pushed herself off the bonnet of the car on which she was leaning and began to walk towards the younger teen. The moment Emma saw her, she broke into a run. Regina did the same, her feet carrying her faster almost automatically. They collided heavily, arms thrown around one another, Emma's bag dropping to the floor.

"You're out!" Regina exclaimed, the reality finally hitting her.

"I'm out," Emma breathed, the same emotion flowing through her body. It was true; she was free. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here," Regina said, pulling back and placing a searing kiss on Emma's lips. "I'll always be here."

Emma smiled and kissed her again, threading her fingers through Regina's hair and angling her head gently backwards, taking control of the kiss. Regina melted into the contact, her body pressed hotly against Emma as their tongues danced.

"Come on," Regina said when the kiss finally ended. "Let's go home."

Emma balked. "Your home?" The idea of seeing Henry and Cora Mills on her first day of freedom was not a welcome one. She was grateful for their financing her legal representation and of course she was eternally grateful for the creation of their daughter. She also knew she would need to face them sooner or later. But not yet, not today.

"No, our home," Regina replied. "New Haven. Ruby sorted the parole board stuff, right?"

"Yes," Emma nodded. "She's got a mate in the department who agreed to transfer me directly to Connecticut if I have a permanent address there but not in New York. I have to check in with them on Monday."

"Well, it's Saturday today so we can stay in the city if you wanted but I figured you'd rather see the house and get settled."

"I … yeah, I do want that but, I mean, are you sure?"

Regina reached down and curled her pinkie finger around Emma's. "Honey, I love you. Come home with me."

* * *

The drive took almost two hours and the girls didn't stop talking for a moment. It was refreshing to be speaking without anyone overhearing, free to say what they wished without adults monitoring them or Emma's fellow inmates eavesdropping. It was just them, no one else.

Emma relaxed steadily further into her new reality as they left the city and sped up the freeway. She took in the passing scenery as she listened to Regina and told her own stories of being inside. The two months she had spent in Queensboro had been mercifully uneventful and her parole granted at the first hearing. She suspected that good fortune had been heavily influenced by character references from both Ruby and August. And now, just twelve months after she had been arrested, she was free. A part of her still felt like she didn't deserve it but slowly, with Regina's help, she was coming to terms with her guilt.

"Hey, happy anniversary," Emma said, suddenly remembering what that timeline must mean.

"Happy anniversary," Regina smiled. "Although I'm not sure we can consider ourselves as having been together for a year even if we did meet a year ago today."

"True," Emma mused. "When is our official anniversary? Actually, are we even official?"

"Well, I've not been sleeping around with anyone else," Regina replied arching an eyebrow teasingly.

"Me neither," Emma hurriedly clarified. "I mean, I just assumed we were exclusive, right?"

"I assumed the same thing but we never discussed it. I suppose we've never had the space to discuss what we are. I know we were given a great deal of latitude in the RJP meetings, but I reckon Ruby and August probably would have stopped us if we'd started talking about the fact that we were dating so blatantly."

"So, we're dating?"

Regina glanced over at the blonde who was smirking at her. "Sweetheart, I think we're doing a lot more than dating."

"Oh yeah? How much more?"

The brunette chuckled at the salacious comment but ignored the obvious sexual implications. There would be time to talk about that later. "We're in a relationship, Emma. You are my girlfriend."

"And you're mine," Emma said, reaching over and linking her pinkie finger into Regina's where it rested on the steering wheel.

"Well, my girlfriend, are you ready to see your new home?" Regina asked, pulling the car into a wide driveway and putting it in park.

Emma peered up through the windshield at the large building, jaw hanging open. Regina smirked at the dumbstruck look and climbed out of the car. She pulled Emma's small bag from the back seat and waited for the other woman to join her on the sunlit porch. The blonde walked up the steps in a stupor, taking in the property. Although it was much smaller than Regina's family home, she too had taken some time to get used to the size of it, especially considering how small her college room was in the Yale residential halls.

"Welcome home," Regina said quietly, pulling the newly cut key from her pocket and handing it to the blonde.

"Regina, this is … thank you," Emma breathed, taking the tiny piece of metal which symbolised so much.

There was nothing more which needed to be said. Regina stepped out of the way and allowed Emma to open the door herself. It swung open, revealing the wide, bright entrance hall. A side table with a colourful bloom caught Emma's eye, a card stuck out of the top of it. She stepped over the threshold and plucked the card from the top, upon which her name was elegantly written. Flicking it over, she read the simple words.

 _I can't wait to start our lives together. I love you. R_

Green eyes sparkled with tears as she turned to see Regina who was standing quietly behind her. "Thank you," she whispered. "I love you too."

"Come on," Regina said. "Let me give you the tour."

They moved through the house, Regina pointing out each room and mentioning her interior design plans. They had only closed on the house sale a month before, so she was yet to fully furnish the space. She had prioritised two rooms however; the master bedroom and a second bedroom. Although they had known each other for a year, Regina didn't want to make any assumptions about where their relationship may head now Emma was free.

"This is the guest room," Regina explained, opening the door. "And the master bedroom is at the front of the house with the en suite. The other bathroom is right down the hall and there's a water closet downstairs."

"It's beautiful," Emma said, her fingers tracing the wrought iron bedspread.

"You're welcome to whichever room you prefer," Regina offered.

At that, Emma turned around. "And what about you?"

"Well, I still have my room in the halls of residence," she reminded the blonde. She had been at college for three weeks and in that short time, she had spent just a couple of night in the townhouse, although that was only to test out each bedroom.

"Oh," Emma said, looking a little crestfallen. "So, you're not going to stay here?"

Regina smiled and walked over to the blonde. Reaching up, she looped her arms around the taller woman's neck, letting her wrists flop behind and her fingers play with the loose blonde curls. "Emma, I would love to stay here. Sometimes. We can talk about it. But for me, it's really important that I have my time with my classmates too. I want to form friendships with these guys whom I'm going to be studying with and while I want to spend every second with you, I need to make sure I don't miss out on that early bonding."

"I know, I'm sorry," Emma said, her hands drifting up to clutch Regina's waist. "You're right, you can go. I'll be fine."

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised. "Are you kicking me out?"

Emma frowned. "Did you not just say you wanted to leave?"

The throaty chuckle which the brunette released made Emma's insides burn hot. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. Just because I'm not going to be living here all the time, doesn't mean we can't have regular sleepovers."

"So … if we have sleepovers, does that mean I have to choose a room and you'll take the other one?"

"If that's what you want," Regina nodded. "No pressure. You're the one living here so you pick whichever room you like best and then I'm happy to sleep in the other one when I stay here."

"So, we wouldn't sleep in the same bed?"

Regina shrugged. "Do you want to?"

"Yes," Emma replied, almost before the question was asked before realising how overeager she sounded. "I mean … do you want to?"

"Yes," Regina nodded, rocking up onto her toes to place a gentle kiss to the blonde's lips.

Emma's brain short-circuited at the sensation of the brunette pressed up against her, their bodies reacting stronger than ever to one another. Perhaps it was because for the first time in a year, there was nothing to stop their kiss developing into something more. Except…

She pulled back, flushed and panting but needing to say what was on her mind. "You know there's no pressure, right? I mean, we can sleep in the same bed and not do anything. I'll wait, until you're ready, I mean."

Regina smiled tenderly. "Emma, I am ready. I know we've not spent much time physically together but over the past twelve months, we got to know one another on a much deeper level. We've talked through some really tough subjects in those meetings and addressed lots of emotions. I'm in love with you, Emma Swan, and I want to be with you."

Her heart fluttered at the genuine declaration, but she reminded herself that whatever happened that night, their acts of physical intimacy were going to be Regina's first time. That was a lot of responsibility and she wanted to make sure the brunette was completely comfortable and happy, with no regrets about taking this important step with Emma. "Ok but we take it slow. As slow as you want. You set the pace."

"Ok," Regina nodded. "But this isn't just about me. I might not have slept with anyone before, but this is big for both of us, right?"

"Huge," Emma nodded. "And, on that note, can you give me an hour or two?"

Regina hesitated before nodding and uncurling her arms. "Of course. Take as long as you need."

"Thanks. Um, is there a store near here?"

"Corner store at the end of the block is pretty good. Drug store two streets down. And there's a Walmart in town. Can I drive you? What do you need?"

"Just some stuff but I'll walk, thanks," Emma shrugged. "Um, can I maybe borrow twenty bucks? I'll pay you back as soon as I get a job. My parole officer will have some prospects lined up for me on Monday. I don't wanna be borrowing money off you."

"Not a problem at all," Regina reassured her, gesturing for the blonde to follow her back downstairs where she had left her purse. Snapping it open, she pulled out a wad of several hundreds and peeled two off to hand to Emma. The younger woman gawped before handing one back. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "Thanks."

"Are you hungry? I can cook us some lunch for when you're back."

"That would be great, thank you."

"Anything in particular?" she asked. Emma shook her head. "Really? After a year inside? Come on, what have you missed most?"

"Food that tastes," Emma deadpanned. "Really, Regina, you can cook whatever you want. I'll love it just because you made it."

"You're grossly overestimating my cooking skills but ok," Regina smiled. "I'll get started. Oh, take this." She picked up an iPhone which had been charging on the side table in the hall, unplugged it, and handed it to Emma.

"Why?" Emma asked.

"It's yours. My number's in there so if you need anything, you can call me and I'll come and meet you. I've also set your home up on Google Maps in case you get lost."

"You bought me a phone?"

"It's no big deal," Regina shrugged. "Daddy gets loads of deals on them because of the business he's in. And I need to be able to contact you, right?"

"I guess but this is a lot. I don't know if I can accept this."

"Sweetheart, I have money and I like to spend it on the people I love. I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to it."

"I mean, it's super generous and I don't want you to think I'm not grateful," Emma replied hurriedly. "I'm just … yeah, I guess I'm not used to it. For so long, it's always just been me, providing for myself. I don't like to feel dependent on someone else or indebted. Already I feel both by living here rent free. I like to earn my own money and be able to pay my way."

"I respect that," Regina assured. "And you can buy the groceries and do all of that stuff once you have a job. But you did just get released from prison three hours ago so how about you cut yourself some slack, ok? Just while you're finding your feet, let me help you."

"Ok," Emma said, recognising the logic of that, even if she still felt a little uncomfortable. "I'm gonna head out. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Regina nodded and kissed Emma lightly before turning and heading towards the kitchen to see what ingredients she had to whip up something for lunch. Emma watched her go then slid the new iPhone into her pocket, picked up the key which lay on the side table and headed out of the house.

* * *

"Zelena, no, you cannot show up here tonight," Regina huffed, the phone on loud speaker as she stirred the tomato sauce she had made from the limited ingredients which she had found in the cupboards. Her mother had ordered some tins and other long lasting groceries to be delivered the first week Regina arrived at Yale.

"But I wanna meet Emma," her friend whined. "You've talked about her pretty much non stop for a whole year and I need to find out what's so special about your little rebel girlfriend for myself. Plus I have to give her the best friend speech and tell her I'll kill her if she hurts you."

"Zelena, I swear to god if you show up on my doorstep I will be the one committing murder. I want tonight to be special and my nosey best friend is not a part of that. No offence."

"Offence taken," Zelena shot back. "But I am willing to forgive you if you tell me every single teeny tiny detail tomorrow."

Regina scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"That's so unfair. I told you everything about when I lost my virginity."

"I know," Regina grimaced. "In way too much detail."

Zelena giggled. "Yeah, that was a fun night. Terrible sex, mind you. So, are you guys going to talk about it before it happens or just see where the night takes you."

"I don't know," Regina admitted. "Emma's out at the moment and I'm making lunch. I guess we'll just see what happens. We've already talked about the fact that we're going to share a bed so that's the first sign we're both on the same page."

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit," Regina admitted. "Excited mostly. I mean, I love Emma. I want my first time to be with her. So yes, I guess I am nervous, but I also know this is going to be amazing and it's something we've both been thinking about for a long time. We've waited long enough and I'm just looking forward to experiencing it now."

"I'm excited for you. Seriously, though, I'll need details."

Regina was about to open her mouth to reply when she heard the front door close. "Emma's back. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Details!" Zelena shouted before the call disconnected.

Regina turned the heat right down on the sauce and headed out to the hallway. Emma was kicking off her shoes and picking up two discarded shopping bags. "What did you buy?" Regina asked, leaning on the doorframe and watching.

"Just some basic stuff," Emma grinned, taking in the sight of the brunette. "You look sexy in an apron, by the way."

Laughing, the older teen turned back to the kitchen, calling to Emma that food would be ready in fifteen minutes before starting to fill the pan with water for the pasta. Emma headed upstairs to deposit her purchases.

She poked her head around the door to the guest room for a moment before moving down to the master bedroom which she was yet to inspect. It was a larger, brighter room. Was it weird for her to choose that room? It wasn't her house, after all, so why should she get the best room? That said, if she and Regina were to be sharing a bed whenever Regina stayed there, surely this bedroom made sense. Decision made, she placed the shopping bags down on the bed and began to unpack.

* * *

Just as Regina was portioning up the food she had prepared, Emma appeared in the doorway, wet hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. She had been desperate the scrub away the last of the prison essence from her skin and had bought some nice body wash and shampoo at the drug store, as well as a razor and deodorant.

"Good shower?" Regina asked.

"The best," Emma nodded. "It is also the first shower I've been in for over a year which either locked or had a door nor a flimsy curtain so that was a novelty." Regina wrinkled her nose and Emma chuckled. "You'd be surprised how quickly you get used to the lack of privacy to be honest."

"I'll take your word for it. Hungry?"

"Starved," Emma said, moving towards the breakfast bar where Regina was standing. "Wow, this looks great."

"Pasta and tomato sauce. I'm a budding chef," Regina chuckled, waving off the compliment. "Cheese?"

"Please," Emma nodded.

Regina grated a generous portion on top of the steaming pasta dishes and then placed each in front of a bar stool. Turning to the fridge, she pulled out two cans of coke and added them to the spread. Hopping up beside Emma, she raised her drink. "To you and the start of the rest of your life."

"Let's hope I don't fuck it up," Emma replied, tapping her own can against the side of Regina's before cracking the ring pull and taking a sip.

The two of them fell silent as they began to eat. Even though she knew any food would taste good after the terrible meals she'd been eating for close to two years, Emma moaned as the first bite hit her tongue. Regina's fork hovered halfway between her plate and her mouth as she watched Emma, eyes closed, savouring the flavour. And then the blonde was swallowing and stabbing several more pieces onto her cutlery, prompting Regina to begin her own meal.

Within ten minutes, both plates were clean. "Thank you, that was amazing," Emma said, patting her full belly.

"You're welcome," Regina smiled. "What do you want to do now?"

"Um, don't take offence but I kinda want to nap. I haven't really been sleeping well the last couple of months and today has been overwhelming. I'm exhausted."

"No offence taken. You can do whatever you want to do. Do you want to borrow some pyjamas?"

"I have some in that bag," Emma replied. "Thanks though."

"Any time," Regina assured. "I've got some school work to do anyway, so this works out well. Then we can enjoy our evening together without me having to do my class reading for next week."

Emma nodded and began to gather the plates and cleared the table. Despite Regina's protests, the blonde finished the washing up. "It's the least I can do after you've cooked," she insisted. Regina gave up telling her not to bother and instead got out her school books and set to work. Already, as expected, the first years were being thrown into Yale's rigorous study program.

"See you in an hour or so," Emma said, bending down to give Regina a quick kiss as she passed.

"Sleep well," Regina murmured, loving the domesticity of their behaviour already.

* * *

The next time Regina looked at her cell, she was shocked to see over three hours had passed. Her studies had sent her down a fascinating road and she had become lost in the reading she needed to do for her upcoming class. Outside the kitchen window, the warm evening light was beginning to change the colour of the few clouds which flitted across the sky.

Getting to her feet, Regina made her way upstairs to see if Emma was still sleeping. The door to the guest bedroom stood ajar and the bed beyond empty. A smile spread over her face as she realised Emma had, as she hoped, opted for the master bedroom. It was important to Regina that Emma felt at home in New Haven and this was a great first step.

Pushing the door to the master bedroom open quietly, Regina peered around the edge. The room was dark but she could make out the lump under the covers which was her girlfriend. Unable to resist, she stepped further into the room. The blonde didn't stir. She must be exhausted, Regina mused, stifling a yawn herself. There had been a party in her dorm the previous night and while she had gone back to her room soon after midnight, the music had made her sleep restless.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and when Emma didn't wake, she slowly stretched out to lie beside the younger woman. Taking a deep breath, she settled into the plush mattress her parents had equipped the bed with. She could fall asleep right there and then if she just closed her eyes. But then the sudden realisation of what she was doing, of what Emma might think if she woke up with Regina beside her, made her sit up abruptly.

The movement jolted the mattress, startling Emma awake. "Who's there?"

Regina turned quickly to see Emma sat bolt upright, peering through the darkness at the unknown figure beside her. "It's me," Regina replied at once, sensing the blonde's panic. "It's Regina. It's ok."

"Oh," Emma said, heartbeat returning to normal. "Sorry." She sank back down into the pillow and rubbed her face. "What time is it?"

"After five," Regina replied. "I'm sorry I woke you. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Emma nodded. "Um, what were you doing?"

Regina blushed, the colour hidden in the dark room. "I just came to check on you but then I realised I was tired and lay down. But then I freaked out and sat up and woke you. Sorry," she repeated.

"Why did you freak out?"

"I don't know," Regina shrugged.

Emma peered up at her from the mattress. "Yes, you do. Something made you freak. What was it?"

"Proximity, I guess."

"Proximity to me?"

"My proximity to you," Regina amended. "I didn't want you to wake up and find me inches from your face. I thought it might be creepy."

Emma chuckled. "You're cute. Come here." She opened her arm out and patted the mattress, encouraging Regina to lie down which, after a moment's hesitation, the brunette did.

"So," Regina began once both she and Emma were lying on their sides.

"So," Emma repeated, pressing a soft kiss to Regina's lips. "See, not creepy. Cute." Another kiss landed on the tip of Regina's nose. The brunette giggled and Emma positively beamed at the sound.

They fell quiet, two sets of eyes scanning familiar faces but somehow seeing them in an entirely new light. Regina's mind was racing. Was this it? Was this the moment? She licked her lips subconsciously, drawing Emma's attention to them; dark and plump and now damp. And then suddenly the blonde was kissing her. Hard and desperate and with a fire they hadn't experienced before. Regina moaned and threw her arm around Emma's waist, wriggling her body closer so they were pressed together. Emma's hands threaded into her hair, fingernails scraping deliciously against her scalp.

Regina moved her hand lower, fingers toying with the elastic of Emma's sleep shorts before drifting further. She allowed her palm to travel slowly over the curve of the blonde's ass, fingers cupping tenderly, exploring how it felt to touch Emma in such a manner. As she did so, Emma's leg lifted up and curled around her hip, pulling the two of them even closer, the blonde's heel digging slightly into her upper calf. She let out a little sigh of contentment as Emma's teeth grazed her lower lip, a gentle bite at once soothed by a loving tongue. At the sound, Emma's hips bucked slightly, the warmth of the young woman's core radiating through their clothes onto Regina's skin.

And then suddenly the blonde was pulling back, panting and wide-eyed but retreating to the far side of the mattress.

"What's wrong?" Regina asked, breathless herself after their steamy kiss.

"I have to stop," Emma replied.

"Why?"

"Because this isn't how this should happen," Emma said. The realisation had hit her before she had fallen asleep that afternoon. Regina deserved everything to be perfect and just like Emma had described all those months ago. Although she had shaved her legs in the shower and scrubbed every inch of her body, now the moment was here, she wasn't sure if it was the right time.

"What do you mean?"

"I promised you the perfect night, Regina. I promised you moonlight on a deserted beach and candles and music in the most beautiful, romantic location."

Regina sighed and reached for Emma, encouraging her back towards her. After a moment's hesitation, the blonde resumed her position but without her leg hooked over Regina's hip and with much more space between their bodies.

"Emma, sweetheart, I don't need any of that. All I need is to know I am loved and safe and with someone I trust. But this isn't just about me. You need to feel the same way so if you want to wait, we can wait. There's no pressure."

"I do feel those things," Emma said at once. "God, I love you so much Regina and I do trust you and I know I'm safe here. But I wanted to make our first time magical."

"It will be magical," Regina replied. "Because it's you and me."

A dopy smile slid over Emma's face. "Are you sure?"

Instead of replying, Regina stood from the bed and reached for the buttons on her blouse. But before she had even got half of them undone, Emma had scrambled after her, fingers eager to do the job themselves. Regina smiled as the blonde took over, her own hands drifting to the straps of Emma's tank top before sliding down defined biceps.

"I love you," Emma said as the material parted and she found herself face to face with Regina's chest. "I love you," she repeated, eyes now fixed on Regina's own.

"I love you too," Regina said, bending down and kissing Emma. The kiss deepened at once, Emma's hands coming up to Regina's waist and touching her bare skin properly for the first time. Her body was hot and tense, quivering with excitement rather than nerves as the brunette leaned down and encouraged Emma onto her back. The blonde stifled a groan as she felt Regina lie atop her, the fire in her core almost unbearable already. But today wasn't about her; it was about Regina.

She set to work gently undressing the brunette, taking her time to remove each article of clothing. Regina, however, was less patient and had wrestled Emma from her pyjamas before the blonde had even started on the tight denim shorts.

"You're so beautiful," Regina said as her eyes raked over Emma's nude form, sitting on the edge of the bed while she undid the button and fly of Regina's shorts.

"So are you," Emma replied, placing a kiss to the soft skin between Regina's breasts as she began to wriggle the denim down the brunette's legs. Once they were on the floor, Regina stepped out of them, now only wearing a simple black lace pair of panties. The older teen herself reached to hook her thumb into them but Emma stopped her. "Not yet," she said, reaching up and curling her hand around the nape of Regina's neck, pulling their mouths back together.

Lying on the bed once more, Emma let her hands explore Regina's almost bare body as the brunette did the same for her. Their breasts were pressed tightly against one another as their fingers mapped new, burning hot skin. She smiled into the kiss as she felt the two shallow dimples at the base of Regina's back but the smile quickly turned into a groan as Regina's fingers flickered over her earlobe. The brunette pulled back.

"Ears?"

"Mine are kinda sensitive," Emma admitted.

Regina's eyebrows rose cheekily and she dropped her lips to the corner of Emma's mouth, then her jaw, placing featherlight kisses upwards until her breath puffed over Emma's ear.

"Jesus," Emma moaned as Regina's lips brushed her lobe. Interested in this newfound erogenous zone, the brunette opened her mouth, closing it lightly around the soft flesh. Emma's fingers dug into her back, hips bucking uncontrollably forwards. Spurred on, Regina allowed her tongue to flicker over the tender skin. Emma cried out, her insides on fire as Regina's mouth worked, her tongue becoming more confident and exploring the curve and shell of her ear.

And then Regina yelped in surprise as she found herself on her back, Emma above her and their mouths fused together in a passionate kiss, all teeth and tongue and desire.

"I can't wait any more," Emma panted by way of explanation when the kiss ended. "I want you to go first and if you had kept doing that, you wouldn't have."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Emma nodded. "But before anything else happens, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Completely," Regina nodded, reaching up to caress Emma's face.

"Ok," Emma smiled. "Well, if I do anything you don't like or want me to stop at any time, just say. Are you comfortable with me using my mouth?"

Even through the darkness, Regina was sure the blonde would see the reddened cheeks. She wasn't used to talking about sex so blatantly and didn't quite know how to do so. "If you want to."

"Oh, I so want to," Emma insisted. "But I can use my fingers if you'd prefer."

"What would you prefer?" Regina asked.

"I want to taste you," Emma replied, her tone dripping with desire.

Regina shivered, actually shivered at the words and nodded her head. She wanted Emma to taste her. She had no idea what Emma would taste but she wanted the blonde to be the first person to find out. The fact that Emma wanted to taste her sent a fresh flush of arousal through her already tingling body.

With permission granted, Emma placed a final kiss to Regina's lips and set out on her journey. She took her time, despite the desperation burning within her. She stopped at Regina's breasts and licked and kissed each mound equally before moving south, over the smooth skin of her belly until she reached the lace underwear. Their eyes locked; Regina nodded.

Carefully, slowly, reverently, Emma peeled the final scrap of fabric down Regina's legs. Once discarded, she knelt between the brunette's thighs and placed her palms gently just above her knees. "God, you're beautiful," Emma said, looking up the bare woman before her. Regina felt a little self-conscious at that. It was the first time anyone had seen her naked since she was a small child. Beneath Emma's palms, her thighs tensed. "Beautiful," the blonde insisted, feeling the woman's reaction.

When the muscles relaxed again, Emma wiggled herself backwards and lay on her stomach. The move brought her quite abruptly in front of Regina's core. There, inches from her face, was the woman's centre, glistening in the darkness. The unique scent of it filled Emma's nostrils and she shuffled herself a little closer. Her hands slid slowly up the smooth skin of Regina's inner thighs, encouraging the woman's legs a little wider.

"Are you ok?" Emma asked, heartbeat thudding against her ribcage. She was desperate to dive right in, but she still wanted to make sure Regina was ok.

The brunette had propped herself up on some cushions and was watching intently. "Yes," she breathed. Her heart pounded too but it was more excitement than nerves.

With reassurance once more that Regina wanted this, Emma moved her hands to splay across the brunette's hipbones, gently holding her still. Then, unable to hold off any longer, she lowered her mouth to press a tender kiss to Regina's pubis. Her lips pressed lightly just above her core, not wanting to jump in headfirst. The soft dark curls tickled her nose as she moved her mouth slowly to one side, lips caressing further down towards where thigh met hip and back up towards the waiting centre. Because Regina was waiting too, desperate now to feel Emma against her. And then, almost suddenly, she was.

Emma's lips closed around her clitoris, her mouth soft and warm. "Oh fuck," Regina moaned into the dark room. Emma's eyes looked up the trembling body and met a wanton expression of pure lust. Parting her lips slightly, she allowed the tip of her tongue to poke out, gently caressing over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Hands flew to Emma's head, fingers gripping her hair. Regina's eyes snapped closed at the sensation, her body overwhelmed in so many ways. Emma slowly slid her tongue, applying only a light pressure over and around the brunette's pearl, each flicker drawing a sound from Regina which made Emma grind her own core into the mattress.

And then she slid her tongue lower, its tip parting Regina's folders and gathering up her essence as she reached her moist centre. Emma's brain short circuited. It was more than just the taste of Regina, tangy yet sweet and just utterly delicious. It was also the way the brunette's hips bucked upwards, her fingernails digging into Emma's scalp as she pulled her closer. It was the way she could feel Regina's body trembling beneath her palms. It was the sounds which spilled from her lips as Regina gave in to the pleasure.

She licked slowly but firmly from Regina's entrance up to her clit, circled the bud twice and returned to source of her juices. Then she did it again. And again. Setting this simple yet steady rhythm, Emma got to work, knowing her mouth was pushing Regina towards her peak. The knowledge that she was going to be the first person to see Regina Mills come made Emma's mind fuzz, but she was determined to stay focused.

"Emma," the brunette moaned as the licks became a little firmer, a little faster.

"Let go," Emma mumbled into the hot, wet flesh. "I've got you, let go. Come for me."

The words made Regina's hips jolt once more, Emma's hands on her hips pressed a little more firmly, not wanting to be dislodged as the woman reached her peak. Her tongue now curled more tightly around her clit and when she circled Regina's entrance, she pushed lightly inside. Regina cried out, the sensation of the hot, wet muscle entering her adding a whole new level of pleasure.

Emma felt Regina's orgasm crest before the brunette knew what was happening. The woman's entrance quivered around Emma's tongue, the muscles spasming as her pleasure peaked. Regina cried out, a mixture of Emma's name and expletives filling the dark room. Emma's tongue kept working, relentlessly lashing Regina's clit to prolong the experience for both of them. The older woman's back arched off the bed, her mouth wide open as if suspended in a state of animation for several seconds before she collapsed back to the bed, panting hard.

The blonde pulled away, reluctant but pleased with herself. She licked her lips and wiped the rest of the Regina's come from her face before crawling back up the spent teen and flopping down beside her. She didn't say anything, wanting Regina to have some time to recover not just from the orgasm but also the experience of having sex and being with someone so intimately.

"Wow," she said after over a minute.

"You ok?" Emma asked, a cocky grin on her face.

"More than," Regina nodded, rolling over and throwing her leg over Emma's hip this time, her wet core rubbing against the blonde's thigh. "You're good."

"You're delicious," Emma replied.

"Really?" Regina frowned.

"Yep," Emma nodded. Before Regina could say anything, Emma kissed her. The blonde's tongue was granted permission at once and Regina realised the kiss tasted different to before. The tart, sweet addition was herself. "See?"

"Hmm," she said. "I guess it's ok."

"It's delicious," Emma repeated.

"Are you delicious?"

"I don't know," Emma replied. "Want to find out?"

Regina bit her lip. "Um, yes, but I don't really know what I'm doing. I mean … what if I can't make you come?"

"Do you trust me?" Emma asked.

"Of course," Regina nodded.

Emma smiled, kissed the brunette quickly and then reached for her hand. Slowly, giving Regina plenty of time to pull away, she guided the older teen's hand to between her legs. Regina gasped as she felt the wetness which coated the blonde's inner thighs and centre.

"I want you so badly, Regina, and I promise you that I am going to come, regardless of what you do. I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life."

Regina's fingers curled slightly, cupping Emma's centre. "Really?"

"Truly," Emma replied. "Just do what you think feels right."

The brunette hesitated for a moment before nodding. Her fingers flickered against the blonde's core once more and Emma let out a strangled cry of delight.

* * *

Three hours later, as the last of the evening light faded from the August sky, the two women flopped, naked and exhausted, onto the crumpled sheets. Their chests rose and fell, drawing ragged breaths into their burning lungs.

"Oh my God," Emma panted.

"Right back at you," Regina replied.

"I love you."

"Right back at you," Regina chuckled.

"I'm hungry."

"Right back at you."

"Pizza?"

"Yep," Regina nodded. "And then more sex."

Emma laughed. "Oh what have I done? I've woken an insatiable beast."

"I'm sure you can satiate me," Regina said, rolling onto her side and kissing Emma's shoulder, the closest piece of bare skin.

"I'll certainly going to try. For the rest of my life."

Regina sobered at the quiet words. It was intense; it was a lot. They were so young. But it was also a thought which made her heart sing.

"For the rest of our lives," Regina nodded.

Emma turned her head to look at Regina. "Do you ever wonder how differently our lives would have been if we hadn't walked both into the bank that day?"

"Often," Regina nodded. "And I know we've gone through a lot but I wouldn't change any of it because it got me here, with you. Being held hostage, what happened on the airfield. It was all worth it."

"I love you," Emma said, following her words with a kiss. And she did. She would always regret elements of what happened the day they met. The weight of those lives lost would sit upon her shoulders until her dying day. But she was slowly coming to terms with it. And her love for Regina was a vital part of that. She now had something to look forward to, to fight for. The life they were going to build, the future they were going to have, whatever it held, she knew they would get through it together.

"I love you too," Regina replied. "So, what do you want on your pizza?"

* * *

A/N: I hope this mammoth chapter made up for the lack of chapter on Wednesday. Sorry, I just didn't have a spare few evenings to write this monster. Thank you for reading yet another of my alliterative stories. This premise has been a really interesting one to explore with Regina and Emma unable to be together for so much of the story. It's reflective of a lot of things happening in my own life at the moment so I guess I've been projecting. Writing is my own personal (free) therapy.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I will be back at some point in the future (I have ideas but prompts are welcome). Please follow me on Twitter (SwanQueenUKFF) and Instagram (swanqueenuk) to stay up to date on all future fics. Big love to each and every one of you and please do let me know what you thought of this story.


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